Baby Mikey
by julesmonster
Summary: House gets a visitor that will change his life, while Wilson struggles to figure out exactly who he is and where he fits into House's new life. Slash. House/Wilson. Season 6
1. Chapter 1

_**BABY**__** MIKEY**_

_**By Julesmonster**_

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **Okay, so I was watching season six over again a while ago and in the first episode (which was so totally awesome, wasn't it?) House has his little tryst with Lydia. Only I got to thinking… were they prepared for that eventuality? I mean, it isn't like there are condoms just lying around a mental hospital, right? This story is the result. It is set towards the end of season six, after the organ and after Sam comes along but before Wilson callously tosses House out like yesterday's news. I hope you enjoy. Jules

_**PART ONE**_

House was pissed in every sense of the word: he was drunk and he was angry. Well, he wasn't _**really**_ drunk—yet—but he was working on it. He _**was**_ angry though, which was why he was drinking. Wilson was out with his harpy ex-wife Samantha Carr—on a Monday night!—and there was nothing House could do about it. The she-devil would get her claws back into Wilson, _**his **__Wilson_, and House would be out in the cold, literally and figuratively. It was only a matter of time before Wilson asked the blond bitch to move in and then she'd insist that House move out.

House had spent months now trying to get Wilson to see what House saw, namely the potential for something really great between them. Part of what Nolan insisted upon House doing was examining his feelings for each person in his life. When they had come to Wilson, there was more confusion and questions than there had been answers. After weeks of breaking it all down and piecing it back together, House knew he was in love with Wilson. He also knew that Wilson had some pretty ambiguous feelings towards him as well. The real question was whether or not Wilson would ever acknowledge those feelings. In truth, House didn't expect he ever would, but House had hopes that they could grow old together, even if it was from separate bedrooms. But with Sam in the way, there would be no chance of that happening. House would be out and his dreams of a life with Wilson would be shot to hell.

House looked down at the empty glass in his hand and hoisted himself up from the sofa. He should have brought the bourbon with him instead of leaving it in the liquor cabinet. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Before he could pour another double, however, there was a knock at the door. House looked at the bottle in his hand and debated ignoring whoever it was. The knock came again, and House sighed before setting the bottle down and limping to the entryway. House opened the door and froze.

"Lydia." House's voice was breathless with shock.

"Greg."

House stared at the woman who had captured his heart for a few brief moments and then left him. "What are you doing here? I thought you had moved to Arizona."

"I did," Lydia said. "Can we come in?"

House started at the use of the word 'we'. He looked around and saw for the first time that Lydia was holding a baby car seat. House's eyes narrow with wary suspicion. "Who is that?"

Lydia had tears in her eyes. "Please. I don't want to do this in the doorway. Can we come in?"

House stood back and motioned for her to come in. He followed her down the hall and into the living room and they were soon sitting across from each other. Lydia fussed over the baby in the carrier for a few minutes before looking up and meeting House's eyes.

"Why are you here?" House asked quietly, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Greg…"Lydia stopped and cleared her throat before starting again. "After we moved down to Arizona, I found out I was pregnant. My husband… we hadn't had sex in months. He knew it couldn't be his child. I… I couldn't bear the thought of an abortion. So we talked it over. He agreed to let me carry the child, but he said I had to give the baby up after he was born… I…"

There were more tears and Lydia accepted the box of tissues House handed her. "You should leave him."

"I can't," Lydia argued. "We have children together. They… they need both of us. And we've been working through our problems… I love my husband."

"So you'll give up this child for the sake of your other children?" House asked with disdain. "And your own comfort."

Lydia frowned and choked back more tears. She steeled herself to say what she had come to say. "I brought him here to see if you want to take him. If not, I want you to sign over your rights so I can give him to an adoption agency."

"My kid isn't going to be shunted off to some stranger," House said angrily. "He's staying with me."

Lydia nodded. "Thank you." She leaned over to unbuckle the baby from the carrier and lifted him out. With only a few steps, she was beside House and handing the child into his arms. "His name is Michael. Michael Gregory House. I didn't think you would want an exact repeat of your name. I didn't know your middle name in any case."

House was too busy looking down into the eyes of his son to really pay attention to Lydia's nervous ramblings. He accepted the bottle she handed to him and watched as the baby latched onto the nipple and sucked the formula down like he was starving.

Lydia watched the two of them closely, memorizing their every movement and shared look. Despite everything, she still cared very deeply for Greg. And she certainly loved her child. But no matter how much it hurt, she knew she was doing the right thing.

"I should go," Lydia said after Michael had finished the bottle and been burped. "I… I've put a schedule for feedings and naps in the diaper bag for you. There are changes of clothes and a few toys in the duffle bag I left by the door. The signed paperwork is in there too. …Can I… can I hold him one last time?"

House held the baby out for her to take and then stood up to walk with her to the door. She was crying again as she whispered to the baby and kissed his forehead. "It doesn't have to be like this."

Lydia shook her head as she handed Michael back to his father. "Yes, it does. I'm sorry. Tell him… tell him I loved him."

And then she was gone and House wasn't quite sure that it hadn't all been a strange dream. Except that he had squirming baby in his arms now. It was rather surreal. "Well Mikey, it looks like it's just you and me now. How do you feel about monster trucks?"

**HWHWHWHWHW**

House was up at an ungodly hour of the morning with a crying baby. After a clean diaper and bottle for Mikey and a clean t-shirt for House, he set Mikey into his carrier seat and set about fixing breakfast. When Wilson breezed into the loft twenty minutes later, House was eating his eggs and talking intermittently to Mikey, who was in his carrier on the floor beside him.

"I'm so late!" Wilson called out as he rushed towards the bedrooms. The bedroom door slammed behind him moments later.

House looked down at his son and smirked. "Wanna bet he doesn't slow down enough to even notice you? No? Smart boy; it's a sucker's bet."

House carried Mikey over to the kitchen and cleaned up his plate before quickly frying an egg and putting some bread into the toaster. By the time Wilson shot out of his room a few minutes later, House had assembled the egg, some of the bacon he'd made before and a slice of cheese onto the toast and wrapped the whole thing in foil for Wilson to take with him.

"Here," House said as he held the foil package out to Wilson.

"What's this?" Wilson asked even as he went to the hall for his briefcase.

"Breakfast."

"Oh. Thanks," Wilson said. "I've got to run."

"See you later," House said, but the front door was already closing. He went back over to Mikey and smiled. "He's going to be _**soooo**_ surprised when he comes home and sees you tonight. Now, let's call Cuddy."

Mikey was beginning to grizzle, so House lifted him out of the carrier and they went over to the sofa to make his call. "House. You better be calling to tell me that you are on your way."

"Sorry, can't tell you that," House said cheerfully. "I have a family emergency. I'll be out for the rest of the week."

"What? House, this had better not be another great aunt's funeral," Cuddy said. "I happen to know that all of your grandparents and their siblings are dead. And your parents were both only children."

"Not that sort of family emergency," House said. "This one is much smaller and…" He sniffed at Mikey and grimaced. "…and much smellier."

Mikey chose that moment to start crying and Cuddy could hear him over the phone line. "House, is that a baby?"

"Gotta go!" House said with a small twinge of panic in his voice. "I think we've got a diaper blowout!"

"House!"

But House had already hung up the phone. Cuddy was left staring at the receiver.

Meanwhile, House was scurrying as quickly as his bad leg would let him towards the bathroom. It was going to take more than a few wipes to clean this mess up. It took almost half an hour to get them both cleaned up, but eventually, House and Mikey were both dressed and ready to go.

"I think we need to make a trip to the store, little man," House told Mikey as he strapped him into the carrier. "There's no way you can keep sleeping in a drawer. I'll have protective services after me before you know it."

It was a good thing that the carrier didn't need a base to buckle into the car. Still, it took House a few minutes to figure out how exactly to thread the belt to keep his son safe. They were soon on their way to the shopping district. House seemed to remember Wilson dragging him to a huge baby store there to buy a gift when Cuddy brought Rachel home. Sure enough, he found the massive store right between a toy store and an electronics warehouse. He parked in the handicapped spot right in front of the store and got Mikey and the diaper bag and put them both into the cart some lazy person had left between the spaces. He figured he'd leave it there when he left as well.

Once inside the store, House was feeling a bit overwhelmed. All around the periphery of the store were aisles and aisles of…stuff. Stuff House had no idea what how to use or why it was necessary. In the center of the store was the furniture and more…stuff. Beyond a bed, House didn't really know what he should even be looking for. He stood there lost for long minutes.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

House was broken from his daze by a young pregnant woman who looked to be close to her due date. "Um yes. I think so."

"It's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?" she asked with a kind smile. "My mother walked me through the first time." She rubbed her hand over he distended belly and said, "This is my third, so I'm an old pro at this now."

"Mikey's my first," House said. "And probably only. His mom left him at my doorstep last night. Not literally, but close enough."

"Wow," the woman said. "I can't imagine… Well, how about I help you figure out what exactly you're going to need? I just started my maternity leave and the kids are in school or daycare, so my whole day is free and I've got nothing better to do. I'm Shannon Mitchell, by the way."

"Greg House," House said as he shook her outstretched hand. "I hate to impose, but I really could use the help."

"No imposition," Shannon said. "Spending other people's money is the next best thing to spending your own. So, what exactly do you have for little Mikey here?"

"Pretty much what you see is what we've got," House said. "A few extra clothes and toys, at home, but nothing else."

"May I?" Shannon asked as she reached for the diaper bag. House nodded and she began to rummage through the bag. "You really are starting from scratch, aren't you? Well, no reason to be discouraged. Let's start with the furniture and go from there. It's totally none of my business, but are you on a tight budget? Because if you are, we can limit the purchases to the absolute must-haves."

House smiled for the first time since entering the store. "I'm a doctor and I'm single. Budget isn't really an issue."

"In that case, let's go shopping," Shannon said with an answering smile.

They started with the furniture, and Shannon was invaluable in helping House understand what each piece of furniture was and whether or not it was necessary. He may not have had budgetary issues, but he did have limited space. In the end, they decided on a sleek modern style in an ebony finish that matched with House's black bedroom furniture. They ordered the crib, the six drawer dresser with the detachable changing pad tray, the wardrobe and the matching shelves. Shannon insisted that a rocking chair was essential, so they looked at those next. House picked out a glider with dark wood to match the furniture in the living room, and a soft yellow fabric to match the throw pillows. It wasn't his favorite combination, but it worked. And with the matching footrest, it was very comfortable for his aching leg. Shannon had a hard time convincing him he needed to get up and keep shopping.

Bedding was next, and House picked out a set that had blue green and black geometric circles in a very modern style that would go well with the rest of their shared bedroom. They got the matching diaper stacker and light up mobile to hang over the crib. Then came the stroller. That was tricky, because House wanted something sturdy enough to substitute for his cane, but still with the functions that Shannon thought were best, like big wheels for easy handling on rough terrain, collapsible and part of a travel system that linked the car seat and stroller and would allow him to use the stroller from now until Mikey was well past the toddler stage. The denim blue with yellow and gray colors weren't too offensive in House's opinion. He figured he could live with that for a while.

After that, House sort of zoned out and everything was a haze as Shannon added things to his order form and to the cart. There was a bouncer, a play mat and a swing to entertain the little guy. Then came the baby bath and the special soaps and creams. Next were diapers, wipes and more creams, followed by cans of powdered formula, bottles, and a special bottle cleaning system that went in the dishwasher. Then they hit the clothes. Sets and shorts and tops and one pieces… then there were the onesies and sleep sacks, whatever they were, bibs and burp cloths, hooded towels and bath mitts.

"I think we can skip the high chair for now," Shannon said. "But you'll want to get one eventually. Now, last thing… do you want to replace this diaper bag with something a little less…"

House looked at the diaper bag that was covered in green bunnies and yellow ducks and grimaced. "Let's take a look."

"They make diaper bags just for dads now," Shannon said. "I bought one for my husband."

House actually laughed when he saw a messenger bag with a stylized skull and flames on it. He grabbed that one as well as a backpack with a classic rock design. "That's more like it."

In the end, House spent a small fortune on everything and paid extra to ensure that the furniture would be delivered the next day. Afterward, he took Shannon out to lunch and they talked. It turned out that her OB/GYN was as PPTH. When it was all said and done, House was surprised to find himself exchanging phone numbers with the woman and agreeing to keep in touch. That was way more sociable than he ever was. Maybe it was Mikey. Little man was changing him already. House couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.


	2. Chapter 2

_**PART TWO**_

Wilson was concerned for his friend. He hadn't shown up to work at all and when Wilson had asked Cuddy, she had spluttered something that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. So, Wilson had turned down Sam's offer for dinner at her place and had come home from work early. Of course, as soon as he walked through the front door, he knew House was up to something. There were shopping bags all over the foyer and he could hear a baby crying.

"House?" Wilson called out as he stepped over a box that had a picture of a baby swing on it.

"In here," House called back and Wilson followed the sound of his voice into the kitchen where House was holding a baby in one arm while trying to fix a bottle of formula in the other. "Can you take him for a minute? Just until I can get this formula measured out?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Wilson said and he dropped his briefcase on the table and reached for the baby. Wide blue eyes stared up at him as the baby's cries of frustration were forgotten in his curiosity over this new person holding him. "Well, hello there. And who are you?"

"Wilson, meet Michael Gregory House," House said ruefully as he shook the bottle and handed it to Wilson. "My son."

Wilson looked sharply at his friend, but kept his shock in check for the baby's sake. "Your… son?"

"Yep," House said with a grin. "Mikey's my boy. He's about a month old and his mom dropped him off here last night."

"She… wait, you mean she dropped him off for a few hours? A few days?" Wilson asked and let the bottle pull away from Mikey's mouth.

"No, she dropped him off for good," House said darkly. Mikey started to cry. "Here, give me my kid." Once House was settled on a chair and feeding Mikey, he continued, "She's married. Her husband didn't want Mikey around." They both thought about House's father and the way he had treated Greg growing up because he wasn't his by blood. "And so she brought him to me. I have all the paperwork. He's my son and I'm going to raise him."

"Okay," Wilson said resolutely. When House was this determined, there was nothing that could change his mind. And truthfully, Wilson didn't think he wanted to try. House was… different with Mikey. "What do you want to do about dinner?"

House looked up at his friend. "What? That's it? No long drawn out discussion?"

Wilson shook his head. "You said it. He's your son. And I'm sure you talked about it with Nolan today. So there's nothing more to discuss, is there?"

"I guess not," House said. "I made lasagna. It's in the oven and will be done in about half an hour. And after dinner, you're going to help move the furniture around in my room to make space for the stuff that's going to be delivered tomorrow and then help me put some of the stuff I bought today together."

Wilson chuckled. "Yes sir. Can I go change clothes first?"

"If you must."

**HWHWHWHWHW**

The next morning, House was up with the sun again. Mikey really did not like to sleep in. He counted himself lucky that the kid slept from about eleven to five. That was all down to the strict schedule Lydia had gotten him started on. A bottle and a diaper change and Mikey was ready to face the day, even if House was more like a zombie than a human being. Nevertheless, by the time Wilson emerged for the day, House had made pancakes for breakfast and had already drunk half a pot of coffee. He was sitting at the table, eating with one hand while he tickled Mikey in his carrier, which was sitting on the table, with the other.

"Good morning," Wilson said.

"Pancakes are in the oven keeping warm," House told him. "Make your own plate."

"Thanks." They were both quiet for a few minutes and then Wilson asked, "So, what are you doing today? I take it you aren't coming in to work."

"Nope," House agreed. "I told Cuddy I'm taking the whole week off. I'll go back on Monday. Today, I've got to start looking for childcare. I thought I'd have time yesterday, but with the morning taken up with shopping and the afternoon with Nolan… Well, let's hope I can find a place to take this guy on short notice."

"So Cuddy doesn't know what's going on?" Wilson asked.

"She knows that I have a baby here," House said. "Mikey decided to start crying when I was on the phone with her yesterday. I didn't explain anything to her though."

"You realize she's going to be all over me as soon as I get to work, right?" Wilson asked.

House shrugged. "Tell her. It's no big deal. It would have been nice to see her reaction, but I've still got my team to look forward to." There was a mischievous smile on his face that Wilson couldn't help but share. He'd make sure he was around on Monday when the team found out.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

Wilson didn't bother trying to avoid Cuddy. Instead, he went straight to her office upon his arrival at the hospital. She was at her desk and looked up as he walked through the door.

"Well? What is House up to this time?"

Wilson chuckled and shrugged. "He's not up to anything."

"Then why did I hear a baby in the background yesterday?" Lisa demanded. "Whose kid was that?"

"His."

"His?"

"His."

Lisa sat there in stunned silence. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Wilson said. "I saw the birth certificate and he's got House's eyes already."

"But…" Cuddy was still flabbergasted. "How? Who? When?"

"The usual way," Wilson said. "And Mikey's about a month old, so I'd say it happened some time while he was away. I know it wasn't after he got back. He didn't go out at all for a while, and he's still not dating."

"So, patient, staff or visitor," Cuddy said. "Okay. Well… Okay."

"Are you okay?" Wilson asked with some concern.

Cuddy shook her head, but laughed. "I'm just shocked, I guess. I mean, House, a father! And voluntarily raising his kid on his own? It seems unbelievable."

"You should see him with Mikey," Wilson said. "I don't think I've ever seen him so happy. He went shopping yesterday and spent a small fortune getting things for Mikey. And he's talked it all over with Nolan. He's considered his options and has decided he definitely wants to raise Mikey."

Lisa shook her head. "A year ago I wouldn't have believed him capable of being a father."

"A year ago, neither would he," Wilson said. "But he's changed. He's really good with Mikey. And Mikey seems to adore him. I held him for a few minutes last night so House could get a shower after we put the bouncer, swing and stroller together. Mikey started to get fussy and just wouldn't settle down for me but as soon as House took him back he was like an angel. House talks to him like he's an adult and Mikey seems to respond to him. He looks at him like he understands."

"Amazing," Lisa said. "Tell me about the mother."

"I don't know much," Wilson said. "Just that she's married. Her husband didn't want to raise another man's child."

"I can't imagine giving a baby up," Lisa said sadly. "I worked so hard to get Rachel; I just don't understand a woman who can give up her child so easily."

"Well, I think you should probably avoid talking much about the mother," Wilson said. "I got the feeling that it was a sore point. I think she hurt him, and now she's hurt their child."

"I think I need to stop by and see this baby for myself," Lisa said with a smile.

"You just want to see House being all paternal," Wilson teased.

"That too," Lisa agreed readily.

Wilson made his excuses and was soon on his way up to his office, but something about their conversation had unsettled him. Maybe it was the way Lisa seemed to be interested in House again now that he'd shown that he was willing to be responsible for his child. Wilson had always thought that the only reason Lisa hadn't taken House up on his frequent advances was the fact that she didn't think he would be a good a father to Rachel. Now he was proving that he could be a father and he was looking attractive again.

Wilson wanted to remind her that she had gone out of her way to hurt House with her relationship with Lucas, but he couldn't justify his anger. He had no reason to be feeling so protective of his friend. Besides, Lisa hadn't made any real move to indicate she wanted House. Wilson shook himself as he left the elevator and went to the diagnostics room.

"Wilson," Thirteen greeted him with a smile. Taub, Chase, and Foreman were all three sitting around the table reading a patient file while she stood at the white board. "How's House? Cuddy wouldn't tell us anything, only that he'd be out until Monday at the earliest."

"He's fine," Wilson told her with the same reassuring smile that put his cancer patients at ease. "In fact, he wanted me to pass on a message. He won't be in, but he does expect that you will keep him up to date on any cases. You know how he is…he just can't be idle completely."

"So he isn't sick?" Taub asked.

"No," Wilson said. "He has some personal things he needs to take care of. He'll probably tell you when he's ready. Just don't push."

Foreman shrugged, "Whatever. Let's finish going over this guy's history and then we can call House."

"See you later," Wilson said as he left the team to work.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

House stared at his phone with contempt. "Are you serious? I'm gone for a day and you've already forgotten everything I've taught you. It is not lupus! It's never lupus! Get a better history on this guy. Check with his ex-wife. And go back over the stuff you found at his home. It has to be something environmental. Either an allergy, fungus or bacteria of some sort."

"We'll get right on that," Foreman drawled.

"House." That was Chase's voice. "Is everything okay with you?"

"Just fine and dandy," House told him. "I'm not crazy or high. I'll introduce you to my latest creation when I get back on Monday."

"Just take care of yourself," Thirteen said. House rolled his eyes and imagined that Foreman and Taub were doing the same.

"Yes mother," House said. "Go! Do my bidding minions!"

He hung up the phone just in time for Mikey to wake up and begin fussing. House smiled even as he went to the bedroom to get his boy.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang and House let the delivery men in with the furniture. He and Wilson had moved some things around to make room in House's bedroom last night before bed. Now House showed the men where to set up the crib, the wardrobe and the dresser with the changing area on top. Then he had them put the glider rocking chair with its matching footstool in living room.

He was pleased with his purchases. Once the men left, House set Mikey in the swing the men had brought and set up. House then began putting clothes and supplies away in the dresser. He put the bedding on the crib mattress. He put the bath items and extra diapers in the linen closet in his bathroom. Soon he had everything put away and he felt a lot better about everything. There was something about being settled in—even if it wasn't him who was settling in—that gave him a sense of peace.

Mikey decided that he was only happy in the swing for a short time and began crying about the same time House was surveying his hard work. House bent to pick up the infant just as a cramp settled into his injured thigh. Swearing, he let Mikey cry for a few minutes while he painfully grabbed his ibuprophen and a heating pad as well as a bottle and diaper for Mikey. Once he was sure he had everything they would need for a while on the bed, House picked Mikey up and carefully hobbled over to the bed and laid down.

"Well, kid," House told Mikey as he checked to make sure his diaper was dry. "You're stuck with a dad who can't chase you around the house, and you're going to have to get used to the times when walking is practically impossible. But I promise to go and watch you play any sports you want to play, attend any recitals, and I'll support whatever extracurricular activities you take part in. I may be a bit grouchy sometimes, but it's only because my leg hurts. Well, that's not strictly true. I'm grouchy most of the time just because, but I'll try not to be grouchy with you."

Mikey looked up at House with adoring eyes. He blinked several times, as though to show he understood and accepted what House had to say.

They spent much of the afternoon on the bed together. Mikey napped there, and House napped as well, hoping that a bit of rest would help the cramping go away. In fact, that's where Wilson found them when he got home from work that evening. House was sitting up in bed with the heating pad on his leg and he was playing with Mikey, tickling and making the infant wave his arms and coo.

"See that, Wilson?" House said. "My kid is a genius. He's laughing at a month old."

"That's not laughing," Wilson said. "That's cooing. But I don't doubt he's going to be a genius with you as a father." He paused to see if House would get up. "Leg bad?"

"It started cramping this afternoon," House said. "I've overdone it the last couple days. It's getting better now. The heating pad helps."

"Good," Wilson said with a smile. "Cuddy is coming over for dinner. And she's bringing Rachel."

House whined, "Did you have to invite her?"

"Yes," Wilson scolded. "And you're just lucky Lucas was on a case, or you would have had to deal with him too."

"Thank god for small favors," House grumbled as he got up from the bed, grabbed his cane, and then picked up Mikey.

"She wants to meet Mikey," Wilson explained as he followed House out to the living room. "You know she would have come if I invited her or not."

House set Mikey onto his play mat and turned on the flashing lights and music to keep him entertained for a while and then turned to his friend. "She could have waited a couple days and I'd bring him to the hospital. The nanny can't start until next Thursday, so he's coming to work with me for a few days."

"You found a nanny for him?" Wilson asked as he began pulling ingredients for stir fry from the fridge. "Already?"

"I used an agency," House told him. "The one Cuddy used for Rachel. I figured she did her research, so I could be sure it was a good place. And they just had a spot open up in their client list."

Wilson narrowed his eyes. "That's awfully convenient. You didn't do anything to ensure that the spot opened up, did you?"

House smirked. "Nothing illegal or even immoral."

"What did you do?" Wilson demanded. He set down the knife he was chopping onions with to stare at his friend.

"I did a little research and made a few calls," House said carelessly. "I found out that one of their clients is a resident at the hospital and has been trying to get into a research program. I just happen to know the head researcher from Johns Hopkins and he doesn't hate me. So I made a call. That's all. I didn't sabotage anyone, or even lie…much."

Wilson chuffed a disbelieving laugh. "Unbelievable. You are finally using your powers for good instead of evil."

"One time," House grumbled. "One time and I'll never hear the end of it, will I?"

"Nope," Wilson agreed with a smile and went back to chopping.


	3. Chapter 3

_**PART THREE**_

Wilson cleared the table with a scowl on his face. Ever since she had arrived, Lisa had been all over House. Even now, they were moving to the living room, each holding a child, and discussing exactly what House would need to provide for the nanny when she looked after Mikey for the first time next week. It had been like that all evening. It wasn't that he minded talking about Mikey; it was just that the two of them talked like he wasn't in the room.

He had just started the dishwasher and had begun making up a coffee tray when the doorbell rang. "Don't get up," he called sarcastically to the two in the living room. "I'll get it." He muttered to himself the entire way to the door. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

"Sam?" Wilson said with some confusion when he saw his ex-wife standing there. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting this evening."

"I did," Sam purred as she pressed up against him. "And now I'm finished. I thought I'd come spend some time with you. We haven't seen each other in a while. I missed you."

"We saw each other Monday," Wilson said. "That was two days ago."

Sam pulled away and frowned. "And? Are you saying you want me to leave?"

Wilson sighed. "No, that isn't what I'm saying. There's just been a lot that's happened. But I guess you were going to find out eventually. Come on, House and Lisa are in the living room."

"Lisa's here?" Sam asked with surprise. She and James had double dated with Lisa and Lucas once, but she had never thought the woman would voluntarily spend any time with House outside of work.

"Yeah," Wilson said, but didn't explain further. He just led Sam into the living room and announced, "Look who decided to join us. Sam I was just about to get coffee for everyone. Would you like some?"

"Tea if it wouldn't be too much of a bother," Sam said as she took a seat on the same sofa as Cuddy. "Well, who is this?"

As Sam was being shocked by House's news, Wilson was muttering to himself again. She wanted tea. Coffee wasn't good enough. Between Sam and Lisa, Wilson was getting quite sick of the female population right about then. He slammed things around while he set the electric kettle to boil and finished setting out the cups, cream and sugar on the tray. Then he opened the cupboard to get the tea before slamming it closed again. He almost jumped when he turned and House was standing right behind him.

"Hey," House whispered so that the ladies couldn't hear. "You okay?"

Wilson looked over at Lisa and Sam. Sam was now holding Rachel and Lisa was holding Mikey. Wilson felt another wave of annoyance wash over him. "No. I'm not okay. I… I have a headache."

House stared at Wilson like he was a puzzle that needed to be solved. "You have more than just a headache. But okay, we can go with that excuse. Why don't you go to bed? I'll make apologies for you. I might even be polite about it."

Wilson chuffed a laugh as he rubbed his temples. He realized he actually did have a monster headache. "Yeah. Okay. The coffee is in the carafe and the tea water should be done in a minute. I put some cookies out too."

"I can manage," House said. "And if I can't, I'm sure that the ladies will be more than willing to help the pitiful crippled dad."

"Yeah," Wilson sighed. That was what he was afraid of. He didn't bother to tell Sam he didn't want her to spend the night. He figured House could handle it. She might be pissed at him tomorrow, but he really didn't want to deal with her tonight. He walked down the hall to his bedroom. Just before he went inside, he looked back and saw House still leaning against the counter and watching him with a thoughtful expression. House nodded to him and Wilson returned the nod before going into his room and closing the door.

Wilson leaned his back against the closed door and sighed.

Back in the kitchen, House finished putting the tray together and carefully carried it over to the coffee table. "Wilson's got a bad headache. He went to bed."

Sam frowned. "Why didn't he say something?"

House shrugged and smirked at her. "He did. To me."

"House," Cuddy said in a warning tone. "Can we just enjoy the coffee?"

"Sure," House smiled at her and then took Mikey from her arms. "Help yourself. Wilson set out cookies as well. I'm just going to put Mikey down and check on Wilson. I'll be a few minutes."

In truth, House had no intention of going back out there until the ladies had both gotten the hint and left. He closed and locked the hall doors behind him, making it clear that they weren't welcome in the private space. He set Mikey down on his dresser top to change his diaper and then put his pajamas on. Once that was done, House took the bottle he had made for Mikey out of his pocket where he had stashed it before taking the coffee to the women. He wished that he had another rocking chair in here. Normally, he liked rocking Mikey out in the living room where he had room to put his leg up on the matching footrest and could watch infomercials with the sound muted in the middle of the night. Times like this, though, would be easier if he had put the rocker in here.

It took almost an hour from start to finish for Mikey to settle down. House laid him in his crib and then went back out to the private hallway. He went to Wilson's door and cracked it open. The light from the hall gave just enough illumination for House to see his friend sleeping peacefully, an arm clutching at a pillow as he slept on his side. House smiled and backed out of the room. He went back down the hall and listened at the door to the living room to see if the women had left yet. There was no sound, so he opened the door.

He had been half right. Cuddy was gone, taking Rachel with her. House was sure it was past the toddler's bedtime as well. But Sam was still there, standing in the kitchen and wiping down the counter with a wet cloth. She had obviously stayed to clean up the coffee tray. She looked up when she heard the door open and the two of them stared at each other with mutual dislike.

"It's hard to believe that anyone would trust you with a child," Sam said lightly, but with an edge of bitterness. "Even harder than believing anyone would sleep with you to begin with."

"There's no accounting for taste," House said. "You really didn't have to clean up. In fact, I would have preferred if you hadn't."

Sam sniffed disdainfully. "It was pretty obvious that you didn't want either of us to stay when you locked the doors behind you. Lisa took the hint and went home."

"She always was a smart lady," House said leaving the comparison to Sam unspoken.

"Well, I just thought I'd go check on James before I go," Sam said with a saccharine smile.

"He's asleep." House told her coldly, letting all pretenses fall away. "And I'm not letting you go in there to wake him up. If he had wanted to talk to you, he wouldn't have gone to bed without saying goodnight."

"If he wasn't feeling well, he would have said something," Sam insisted.

"Unless you barged your way into a private dinner and he was too polite to tell you to get lost," House said. "Leave him be. Go home and you can bitch at him tomorrow. You can cry about how rude and unfeeling the big bad House was to you when he threw you out. But don't be surprised if he isn't as sympathetic as you'd like him to be."

Sam glared at House for a long minute before moving around him and heading for the entry hall. "This isn't over."

"I'm sure it isn't," House said smugly as he followed her to the hall. "But I'll win the war too. I picked up the pieces when you dumped him the first time around and I've outlasted two other ex-wives, not to mention the numerous girlfriends. You didn't even make it two years before sneaking out while his back was turned last time. I've been here for nineteen years, and I'll still be here for him when you're gone again."

Sam had stopped halfway out the door to listen to House, but she didn't turn around or respond. When he finished, she simply shut the door behind her.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

House was already up when Wilson emerged from his bedroom the next morning. Having a baby in his bedroom was wreaking havoc on his habit of sleeping in. In fact, he'd been up for about two hours by the time Wilson joined him in the kitchen. House had actually made breakfast for the two of them again. He was putting food on two plates while Mikey cooed from his swing, and Wilson had to smile at the unexpected domesticity of the scene, even if House was wearing a death metal t-shirt.

"Wow," Wilson said as he saw the omelets and toast that House had made for them. "Breakfast three days in a row."

House shrugged. "I've been up for a couple hours. Seemed like the least I could do since I don't have to rush around getting ready for work."

Wilson stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth and then slowly lowered it back to his plate. "What did you do?"

House looked affronted. "Why would you think I did something?"

"Don't give me the innocent act," Wilson said pointing his now empty fork at House. "I know you. You don't do anything nice unless you have an ulterior motive. And I've got six missed calls on my phone from Sam between last night and this morning. You did something and are trying to suck up this morning so I won't be mad at you when I find out what."

House sighed and put his own fork down. "I didn't do anything. In fact, I left the ladies soon after you went to bed so that I could put Mikey down. It took longer than usual and when I came back Cuddy had left, but Sam hadn't. She wanted to wake you up and I stopped her. She was pissed. That's all that happened."

Wilson studied House through narrowed eyes. "Why should I believe that?""

"You shouldn't," House said snidely. "You should believe the absolute worst about your best friend because he's a bastard and is incapable of change."

He picked up his fork again and set about ignoring Wilson while he ate his breakfast. Wilson didn't know what to think and so he said nothing and ate his own breakfast in strained silence. When he was finished, House got up and took both their empty plates to the kitchen and put them into the dishwasher. Wilson got up and put on his suit jacket.

"Are you coming home tonight?" House asked, hating that he sounded like a housewife desperate for attention.

"I have plans to have lunch with Sam; I doubt we'll have dinner together as well," Wilson said. "So unless there's an emergency, I'll be home around six."

House nodded and picked up Mikey who was starting to grizzle with displeasure. He noted that he needed a new diaper and started down the hall to change him when Wilson called out to him.

"House, I'm sorry," Wilson sighed. "You're right. I should trust you more. I guess I'm just feeling a bit guilty for the way I treated Sam last night and was displacing my guilt onto you."

House snorted. "You really do believe all that psychobabble don't you?"

The tension between them disappeared that quickly and Wilson laughed before he headed towards the front door. "Goodbye House!"

House looked down at Mikey and smirked. "Your Uncle Jimmy is way too easy. I didn't lie to him, but I certainly wasn't nice to Sam. Which she'll tell him over lunch, but he'll already have my innocence planted firmly in his head and think she's just blowing things out of proportion. Which she is. If she can't take me, she can't be with Jimmy. We're a package deal. Even Cutthroat Bitch figured that out."

Mikey responded to this by kicking his legs and trying his best to pee on his father who was barely fast enough to cover his little penis with a diaper before he could squirt too far.

"Yep," House said with a devilish grin. "You are definitely my son. Now we just have to time it so that you do that when Uncle Jimmy is changing you. Or even better, the Cuddy monster."


	4. Chapter 4

_**PART FOUR**_

Wilson met Sam at an Italian restaurant not far from the hospital for lunch. He was a little early and found himself thinking about his relationship with Sam. He had called her back on his way in to work that morning, but had only gotten her voicemail. She had then called him back, gotten his voicemail and left a message that she was still coming for lunch. They hadn't actually spoken and Wilson wondered what she would say about House, or if she would say anything at all.

Wilson had been through four significant relationships—and numerous insignificant ones—since becoming friends with House. Each and every time, there was tension and animosity between House and the women in his life. He had always thought that House was the source of that tension, but he wondered about that now. He had always said that House's insecurities were to blame, but what if it wasn't just House's insecurities? What if his wives had felt threatened by House's place in his life? What if that's what was happening with Sam?

House had admitted that he had tried to protect Wilson last night, even if it wasn't in those exact words. He knew that House had probably been less than tactful in his refusal to Sam, but in the end, House had Wilson's best interests at heart. House had known that he was upset when Sam hadn't bothered to notice. Not only had he noticed, but House had come to him and relieved him from his responsibility as a host. And when Sam would have ignored his wish to be left alone, House stood up for him. If he thought about it, Wilson could admit that House had always tried to protect him and do what he could to make Wilson happy. He looked out for Wilson's needs even when Wilson was too love-struck to look out for himself. Wilson might not like his methods at times, but House's motives hadn't been completely selfish all these years or else Wilson wouldn't have been friends with him for so long. He wasn't _that _much of a pushover.

And what about Sam? He knew that he had blown things out of proportion last night because he was already in a bad mood, but the way she just walked all over him… She had invited herself over and had practically forced her way into the living room. And then she wanted tea when everyone else was perfectly happy with the coffee. She drank coffee all the time. There was no reason she couldn't drink it last night except she was being contrary. Wilson shook his head. He really was making this a bigger deal than it should be, but if he was this upset over little things like that, then there was probably an underlying reason.

It was funny. Because of their shared history, there was a certain level of comfort and familiarity with Sam that was absent from other new relationships, but the truth was Sam really didn't know him. She knew who he was twenty years ago, but not the man he had become. The fact that she _**assumed**_ that she knew him and that she held an honored place in his heart made Wilson resentful. He had changed over the past two decades. The pain she had inflicted upon him had changed him, made him less open to the women who followed in her wake, made him cautious and closed-off. Her betrayal probably had more to do with his failed marriages than anything House ever did.

He and Sam had never really addressed her betrayal—and that's what he considered her actions. Before they could move forward, Wilson needed to know why she had just sent him divorce papers with no warning and no explanation, why she had packed her stuff and left while he was away. He had gone to that conference where he met House and was shocked when a messenger had knocked on his hotel door to give him divorce papers from the wife he had just left at home, the woman he had thought was if not happy at least content and in love with him. And when he returned from the conference, she was gone along with her stuff.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Sam said as she bent to kiss Wilson's cheek before taking the seat across from him. She gave him a sunny smile. "Things got backed up when the head of radiology decided that it was imperative to have a staff meeting to review procedures that we all know better than he does."

"That's okay," Wilson said with a feigned smile. "I know it isn't always easy to get away. I wanted to apologize for just rushing off to bed last night."

"House said you weren't feeling well?" Sam said with some concern.

"I had a migraine," Wilson said. It was an exaggeration, but it was one he didn't feel guilty about using. "How did things go after I left?"

Sam's smile faltered for a moment before she pasted it back on. "House served the refreshments and then went to put the baby down."

Wilson looked at her with false concern. "Was he rude?" He knew the answer to this question already, because he had quizzed Cuddy about what she had seen before she had left last night.

Sam hesitated. "Not rude per se. He was… abrupt. And he left me and Lisa to fend for ourselves."

"Well, Mikey does have a schedule," Wilson said reasonably.

"He was gone for an hour," Sam said flatly and Wilson couldn't help but think she sounded like she was spoiled child tattling to teacher.

"Sometimes it takes time to get him to sleep," Wilson said carefully.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Of course. He did it because he was concerned for his son. I don't buy it. He used that kid as an excuse to get out of there."

"Well, he didn't invite either of you over and he's not very comfortable playing the host. Was Cuddy uncomfortable?" Wilson asked.

"She makes excuses for his behavior the same way you do," Sam sighed. "Anyway, his leaving us wasn't the worst of his offenses. Cuddy left but I stayed to clean up. But just as I was finishing up, House finally returned. It was obvious he had thought I had gone. Instead of thanking me for the help, he said he wished that I had left when Lisa did."

"Why didn't you?" Wilson asked. She couldn't answer right away because the waiter came to take their orders. Once he was gone, Wilson repeated his question.

"I wanted to check up on you," Sam said. "He said you were sick, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. God knows he wouldn't do anything to help you."

"You're wrong about that," Wilson said quietly. "He would do just about anything to help me. He would just whine and complain the whole time and pretend that he didn't have a choice so that people wouldn't recognize that he was doing something nice."

"Whatever," Sam said and waved his explanation away. "Anyway, he locked the doors to the back hall and I couldn't get in, so I had to wait for him to come back out. And when he did, he refused to let me go see you."

"I was sleeping," Wilson said calmly. "I'd taken pain medication and was passed out. There was no reason for you to see me."

"Well I didn't know that," Sam said, still trying to maintain a lighthearted façade. "He told me that you didn't want me there and that I had no right to check on your welfare."

"I didn't want anyone there right then," Wilson said. "I had a headache."

Sam shook her head in frustration. "He told me you wouldn't be sympathetic. He thinks he means more to you than I do."

Wilson frowned as he thought about how to respond to that tactfully. "He does." That wasn't as tactful as he had hoped but at least it was honest.

"What?" Sam asked, her voice filled with offense.

Wilson sighed. "Sam, you and I haven't known each other for almost twenty years. House and I have been through a lot in the last two decades. He knows me and I know him. He's my best friend and I love him. You, on the other hand, are a woman I once loved who I might or might not learn to love again. I'm not saying that I would choose him over you—I would hope that no one would ask me to make such a choice—but I am saying that right now, if I have to quantify my feelings, I do care more about him than I do you."

Sam shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know what to do with that."

The waiter returned with their food and they both spent a few minutes after he left just eating their meals. There was a lot that had been said and a lot that had been left unsaid. Both needed time to regroup before carrying on.

"Why did you leave me?" Wilson finally asked.

Sam was startled by the question. "I left because I was unhappy."

"Be more specific," Wilson said. "In the two years we had been married, you hadn't ever talked to me about being unhappy. You gave me no indication that things were as bad as they must have been for you to leave. In fact, you did everything you could to convince me that you were happy, that we were the perfect couple. You talked about having a baby, for god's sake! So tell me why you left, because I really need to know."

"House put you up to this, didn't he?" Sam said instead of answering.

Wilson chuffed a sad laugh. "No. He hasn't brought it up since the first time I told him who I was dating. And that was more as an identifier: Sam, the ex who left for no reason. This isn't about him, it's about us."

Sam took a deep breath and let it out. "I wanted more. You were graduating from med school and I hadn't done anything. I worked and I waited for you to come home from class or the library, and I knew things would just get worse once you were doing your internship and residency. I wanted to be somebody, but I just felt like I was disappearing. I was Mrs. James Wilson, not Sam. So I started to apply to schools. I knew if I talked to you about it, you would have said and done all the right things and we would have stayed together and found a way to let me go to med school while you were off doing your own thing. But I would still be in the same boat ten years down the line; no matter what career I chose, I knew it would never be as important as yours. I had to get out and become my own person. I needed to find my own way in the world. Leaving like that was the only way I knew how to do it without chickening out."

Wilson took a deep breath. "So you didn't tell me because I was _**too sympathetic**_? Un-fucking-believable."

"James…" Sam reached out to take Wilson's hand, but he pulled away.

"Sam, I don't think I want to do this," Wilson said calmly. "Not here and not now." Wilson stood up and pulled some bills out of his wallet to pay for their lunch.

"If not now, when?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Wilson told her and walked away.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

House was getting stir crazy, so he decided to take Mikey out for the day. He didn't really know what to do. Normally, if he wasn't working, he was either with Wilson or at a bar. Or both. He couldn't very well take Mikey to a bar, and Wilson was working. He could take Mikey to work, but he really didn't want to go there when he didn't have to be there. He had to think outside of his usual modus operandi.

He and Mikey ended up driving down to Trenton to some of the little shops that House liked to explore sometimes. That was how he had found that great head-shop where he bought his flame cane. Now, with Mikey in tow, he found a great music shop that carried vintage vinyl albums. He used the stroller to push Mikey around the shop while he searched through hundreds of albums. An hour later, he had found seven albums he wanted that were in almost mint condition. He also found some cool new rock t-shirts for both himself and for Mikey. House got a few different sizes for the baby to grow into and smiled at the thought of what Wilson would have to say when he saw the baby in one.

Next to that store was a children's clothing store. Normally, he wouldn't be caught dead in a shop like that, but now… Well, Mikey changed a lot of things.

"Good morning, sir," the shop clerk greeted him. She looked like she was still in college.

"Hi," House said. He looked around the store and saw rack after rack of pastel clothes with lace and frills. "You have anything that _**isn't**_ embellished with cute little duckies or bunnies?"

The girl smiled in understanding. "Well, sure. We actually carry a couple very different lines. The shop owner is a up-and-coming designer who likes to make alternative clothes for kids. Unfortunately, most people don't like dressing their kids in black denim and leather. The other clothes are in the back room. Let me show you."

House smiled and followed the young girl through a curtained area and found clothes that were more what he was looking for. He began to look around at the selection of infant clothes and laughed.

"I think I like this store."

**HWHWHWHWHW**

Wilson walked into the loft that evening feeling every one of his forty three years. He was later than he had intended to be. He'd had three terminal patients die that day. Added to the upsetting lunch with Sam and his day had really sucked. All he wanted was a quiet evening vegetating in front of the TV. When he walked through the front door to the loft, however, he knew that a quiet evening was out of the question.

The Rolling Stones were blasting from the stereo and House was playing air guitar with one hand while Mikey rested in his other arm. Wilson smiled when he saw how they were dressed. Seeing House in jeans and a vintage rock and roll t-shirt was not unusual. Seeing Mikey, at a month old, in black jeans, a vintage rock tee, and a leather motorcycle jacket that looked suspiciously similar to House's—not to mention the black bandana tied around his little bald head—made Wilson forget about his awful day and laugh.

"Where in the world did you find a leather jacket for an infant?" Wilson asked, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

House grinned at Wilson and lowered the volume of the stereo. "I found the _**best**_ shop in Trenton today. They make all kinds of really great baby clothes. And I found a record shop that sells mint condition vinyl albums and rock tees for babies. It was a great day. How was yours?"

"Horrid," Wilson admitted, but the smile didn't leave his face. "But it's looking up now."

"Good!" House said. "Mikey and I decided to make dinner. The meatloaf will be out of the oven in a few minutes. If you're quick, you should have enough time to change and grab a plate before Vampire Diaries comes on. So hurry up! I'm going to get Mikey ready for bed."

The smile on Wilson's face stayed there while he changed, when he got his dinner, while he and House watched TV and even as he made his way to bed that night. It was amazing how easily House could bring him out of a funk without even trying. That was why he was still friends with House after all these years. House made Wilson feel good. Everyone else made him feel like he had to be perfect and compassionate and selfless. House reveled in thumbing his nose at the world's expectations and his freedom from guilt allowed Wilson to feel free when they were together.

Wilson went to sleep happy.


	5. Chapter 5

_**PART FIVE**_

On Friday, House took Mikey for a check up with a pediatrician that Cuddy had recommended and then had his second appointment with Dr. Nolan for the week. They discussed more about the changes Mikey was bringing to his life, and how House was coping with those changes. The hardest thing, House admitted, was the fact that he wasn't working. His team called him to help on their case but House needed to be busier than he had been that week. He couldn't wait to get back to work, even if Mikey went with him. In fact, he was looking forward to seeing how his team and the rest of the hospital reacted to Mikey. Dr. Nolan gave him a sardonic look, but agreed that House probably should get back into a familiar schedule as quickly as he could.

Saturday and Sunday, Wilson was home and House was pleased to see his best friend taking an active interest in Mikey. He was also pleased to note that Wilson hadn't seen or talked to Sam since their lunch on Thursday. For the first time in what seemed like a long time, he had Wilson all to himself for the weekend. With Mikey in their lives it was almost like they were a family. They didn't do anything particularly special, but the fact that they could just spend two days lounging around the loft together was special in and of itself.

Monday morning dawned earlier than House would have liked, but no earlier than he expected from his son. If nothing else, Mikey was doing a fair job of getting House to work on time for a change. House stumbled around in the early morning light getting a bottle ready for Mikey. Then he sat down in the rocker and let Mikey eat while he dozed for a bit longer. Once Mikey had finished his bottle and burped, House put him into his swing so that he could take a shower. It was the first time House had tried to shower when Mikey wasn't sleeping, and he was acutely aware that Mikey was probably going to start crying long before he was finished. His son was very clingy first thing in the morning. It wasn't until they had been up for a couple hours that Mikey really let House put him down.

House rushed through his shower routine, completely ignoring the fact that he needed to trim his not-quite-a-beard. He brushed his teeth in the shower and finally shut off the water and reached for the towel hanging outside the shower. He didn't hear Mikey crying in the other room, but he hurried just in case he started. He dried off and pulled on a pair of jeans and one of his new t-shirts. He sat on the bed, pulled on his socks and donned one of his favorite pairs of athletic shoes. Then he reached for a button down shirt and a jacket. He didn't bother putting either on since he still had to get Mikey ready. He grabbed his cane and limped back down the hall to get Mikey before he could start wailing.

House stopped when he saw the reason Mikey hadn't been crying. Wilson was standing in the living room in just his boxers, holding the infant in his arms and talking quietly to him. "He okay?"

Wilson looked up in surprise. He hadn't heard House coming. "He was crying, so I thought I'd pick him up."

"Thanks," House said. He was feeling rather flushed seeing Wilson standing there practically naked. He had come to terms with the fact that he was in love with his best friend, but House was not yet used to the idea that he found the man sexually attractive. "I'll take him now. He needs a bath and you need a shower."

"Right," Wilson said and walked Mikey over to House. Once the exchange had been made with more physical contact than House could reasonably handle, Wilson went back to his bedroom to get ready for the day.

"Well little man," House said with a sigh. "I do believe that your daddy is screwed—and not in the good way. How am I supposed to deal with seeing that every morning?" Mikey didn't have an answer. He just cooed at his father and batted at his nose. "Right. No use dwelling on what we cannot change. Very smart advice little man. Let's get you clean. Women love that baby smell, but you just smell like piss right now."

House used the baby bath in the kitchen sink and quickly had Mikey cleaned up. It had taken a couple tries before he got the hang of this skill in the week since he'd arrived. Holding a wet and squirming baby in a shallow tub while you tried to get him clean was not as easy as it sounds. But soon, House had him clean and dry and carried him back to the bedroom to be diapered and dressed.

He was heading back out to the kitchen a few minutes later when he heard Wilson turn on his hair dryer. With a smirk, House said to Mikey, "Your Uncle Jimmy is such a girl sometimes."

House set about making breakfast for himself and Wilson. It wasn't anything special, just hot cereal, but Wilson looked like he had performed some minor miracle when he came back out.

"You made breakfast again," Wilson said with some awe.

House rolled his eyes. "Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious. And don't get used to it. Eventually Mikey's going to let me sleep longer than six hours and then you'll be back on breakfast duty."

"Whatever the reason, I'm grateful," Wilson said as he sat down across from House at the table.

Part of the reason that House had made oatmeal was the fact that he could both cook and eat the cereal with one hand. Mikey still wasn't ready to be put down. Soon he wouldn't have much choice, however, since he had to go into the car seat to go to the hospital.

"Do you want to ride in together?" Wilson asked.

"As long as you aren't staying late," House said. "Otherwise, Mikey and I can go in my car."

"No late appointments," Wilson said. "And no cases that I expect to become critical this week."

"In that case, we'll take that ride," House said. "If you clear the dishes, I'll get the rest of Mikey's things ready to go."

That task proved more difficult than House had realized. He needed diapers, formula, bottles, a clean change of clothes for diaper blow outs—they had already had two of those—the bouncy chair with the flashing lights, some toys, a couple blankets, the stroller and the portable crib.

"That's a lot of stuff," Wilson said as he scratched the back of his head. "Are you sure you need all of this?"

"Unfortunately," House sighed. He stood beside Wilson and they eyed the pile of stuff together. "Some of it will stay at work though."

"You get the diaper bag and Mikey" Wilson said. "I'll get the rest of this stuff."

"If you put the crib and the bouncy seat on the stroller, you can hook the diaper bag to the stroller handle," House pointed out. Carrying Mikey wasn't the lightest thing he could carry, but at least it was only one thing. Wilson bent down and began loading the supplies into the stroller and soon they were on their way.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

Cuddy was just coming into the hospital when they arrived. Much to Wilson's annoyance, she came over and helped carry some of the supplies so that House could hook Mikey's carrier into the stroller for the trip up to his office. Once again, Lisa felt the need to focus the conversation entirely on Mikey and the needs of infants. Wilson thought that House was doing quite well without Lisa's advice, but kept his mouth shut for the ride up to the diagnostics office.

"Well, I guess I'll let you get Mikey settled," Cuddy said once they had arrived at their destination, though it was obvious that she didn't want to leave yet.

"I'm sure you have a lot of administering to do," House agreed readily enough that Wilson felt a little lighter, though he wasn't certain why.

"If you need anything, just call," Cuddy said and finally left.

"I thought she'd never leave," House sighed. Wilson's mood lifted even further, so much so that he was actually grinning at House. "Come on smiley. Help me put this contraption together. Mikey will be ready for his morning nap soon."

Wilson ended up putting the portable crib together while House read instruction from his Eames chair with his feet up and Mikey on his lap. It wasn't very difficult but it did require getting down on the floor, something that wasn't high on House's list of things to do. Once that was done, House put Mikey in his bouncy seat and turned on the lights and music for the baby's entertainment.

"How soon before your team gets in?" Wilson asked. He sat down in one of the ergonomic plywood chairs by House's desk and watched Mikey kick his feet and try to bat at the toys that were hanging down from the arch above the seat.

"How should I know?" House asked with a shrug. "I'm never here on time."

Wilson nodded. "I should get to work but…"

"But you want to see the show," House said with a grin. "See, this is why I like you. No one else would ever believe you can be as wicked and conniving as me when you want."

"I enjoy watching a car wreck as much as the next guy," Wilson said candidly.

"Introducing my son to my team is a car wreck?" House asked.

"When Taub sticks his foot in his mouth and Thirteen goes all gooey, it is," Wilson said.

House's grin was back in full force. "They _**are **_going to freak out."

They spent the next half hour talking and taking turns entertaining Mikey when he got bored with the flashing lights and hanging toys on his bouncer. His attention span was on par with his father's.

"What time is it?" House asked as Mikey started to get fussy.

"Almost nine," Wilson said. "I think your team should be here soon."

"Yeah," House said. He leaned over and unstrapped Mikey from his bouncy seat. "Here take him while I get his bottle ready."

Wilson picked up Mikey and began to walk around the room with him while House went to his desk to get the bottle from the diaper bag he'd set there earlier. He pulled out the empty bottle and the can of formula and began measuring out the powder.

"There's bottled water by the coffee pot in the other room," House said.

Wilson nodded and carried Mikey into the conference room to fetch the gallon jug of bottled water. He had just picked up the bottle when Chase entered the conference room. He looked at Wilson with raised eyebrows but said nothing. He simply took a seat at the table and pulled out his newspaper. Taub, Thirteen and Foreman all three walked into the conference room a few seconds later. Unlike Chase, two of them froze in their tracks at the sight of the oncologist carrying a now crying baby.

Foreman, however, rolled his eyes and went to pour himself coffee. "New patient?"

"What were you three doing, waiting down in the lobby so that you could come up at the same time?" Wilson asked, ignoring Foreman.

"Is that a baby?" Taub asked.

"No, it's an alien," House said as he limped into the room. "Give me that." He took the bottle of water from Wilson and finished preparing the formula. As he shook it to mix the formula with the water, House looked around at his team. "What?"

There was silence for a full minute before Chase spoke up, though he didn't look up from his crossword puzzle. "I think the question we all have is: whose kid is it?"

"Guess," House said with a smirk. He handed the bottle to Wilson who began to feed Mikey. His whimpers tapered off as he began to suck on the bottle.

Foreman rolled his eyes again and went to sit in the chair at the far end of the table. He refused to play House's games.

"Um," Taub hesitated. "Wilson's?"

"Nope," House said cheerfully.

Thirteen shook her head. "He's wearing a tie-dyed jumper with Grateful Dead dancing teddy bears on it. The baby is obviously House's. Wilson would never let his child be dressed that way. No _**sane**_ person would."

"How in the world…?" Taub asked as he leaned over to get a closer look at the baby.

"Do I really need to explain this to you?" House said with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure they require a class on this in med school. And back away! Stop breathing your undersized germs on my child."

Taub backed off rather quickly and took a seat at the table.

"So, who was crazy enough to sleep with you?" Foreman asked.

"Crazy," Thirteen said thoughtfully. "This baby isn't more than a few weeks old, and _**he**_," she looked at House for confirmation and he nodded, "looks like he was full term. This would mean that he was conceived approximately ten and a half months ago. Ten and a half months ago House was at Mayfield."

"You slept with one of the loonies?" Taub asked incredulously.

"_**You**_ are pushing your luck," House said with a glare in Taub's direction. "I was one of those loonies. And no, I didn't have sex with another patient."

"He's the one who said they had to be crazy to sleep with you," Taub said defensively and fingered Foreman.

"Yes, but he has a backbone," House said. "And homies who wouldn't think twice about shanking me."

"So, who is his mother and why has he just shown up?" Chase asked, finally giving up the crossword for the discussion.

"His mother doesn't matter," House said. "She can't take care of Mikey, so she brought him to me. He's _**my**_ son."

"And this is why you were out last week?" Thirteen asked.

House rolled his eyes. "Well, duh! Wilson, give me my kid. The show is over and you four have work to do."

"So do you," Wilson said, but he handed Mikey over. "Here. Play nice. I'll be by for lunch."

Wilson left the room, but paused in the hall to watch as House took a seat and listened to his team update him on their most recent patient's condition while he continued to feed Mikey. Yep. This was going to work.


	6. Chapter 6

_**PART SIX**_

Five hours later, Wilson wasn't so sure that having House back at work with Mikey in tow was a good thing. Forty minutes earlier, House had carried Mikey into Wilson's office and asked him to keep the baby for a few minutes while House supervised a procedure they were performing on their patient. Wilson wasn't too busy, so he agreed. But Wilson now had a patient waiting for him, and House still hadn't returned.

"Dr. Wilson?" Wilson's assistant called to him through the intercom. "Mrs. Bloom is still waiting."

Wilson rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and sighed. "Send her in."

The next half hour started with Mrs. Bloom cooing over Mikey and ended with Wilson telling her that her cancer was back. It was a turbulent meeting, but all in all, it could have gone worse. Mikey even waited to start crying until after Mrs. Bloom left.

"Alright Mikey," Wilson said in his most soothing voice. "We're going to go check your diaper, get you a bottle and, if neither of those things works, we'll hunt down Daddy and strangle him together. Sound like a plan to you?"

Mikey looked at Wilson with the same strangely perceptive look he often gave House.

"Are you sure you're only a month old?" Wilson asked. They left his office and stopped by his assistant's desk to let her know that he'd be out of his office for a while. Then they went to the diagnostics conference room. It was empty of everyone but Chase. Wilson walked in and the blond looked up and gave Wilson a smile.

"House is still observing the procedure," Chase said. "I can page him if you need to get back to work."

"No, that's okay," Wilson said. "I just need to get some things for Mikey. It's time for his afternoon feed, followed by his nap."

Chase followed Wilson through to House's office and watched as he got a diaper out along with the wipes and talc. "House has him on a schedule? That doesn't sound like House."

Wilson snorted in amusement as he swiftly changed Mikey's diaper. He was careful to keep him covered while he did so. He'd learned the hard way that Mikey could pee pretty far for someone so small. House had found that infinitely amusing. "House can't live under anyone's rules, but he is just fine setting rules for other people. You should know that by now. Besides, Mikey is _**MUCH**_ easier to deal with if he has some consistency. And if Mikey is sleeping well, House sleeps well which is good for everyone concerned."

"I suppose," Chase agreed. "So you know anything about the kid's mom?"

"Not much more than what House told you," Wilson said as he buttoned Mikey's jumper back up. "The most important fact is the one he gave you; she gave Mikey to House to raise. You aren't trying to figure out why someone would want to be with him are you?"

"Nah," Chase said with a shake of his head. "Here, I'll hold him while you get the bottle ready." Wilson handed Mikey over and Chase made a goofy face at the baby before continuing. "I'm not like Foreman and Taub. I can see why someone would be sexually attracted to House. Even at his worst, he has charisma that is difficult to resist." Wilson stopped what he was doing to stare at Chase. "What?"

Wilson shook his head. "Nothing. I just… didn't expect you to tell me that House is attractive."

Chase shrugged. "Why not? He definitely is. He has his fair share of men and women both hitting on him. He just doesn't bother responding most of the time. Or do you think I can't find another man attractive because I was married?"

Wilson shook the bottle and thought about how to answer that. He handed Chase the bottle and let the younger doctor feed Mikey. "I'm not sure I've ever considered the idea that you were anything but straight since that's all I've seen. I'm not like House. I don't try to see what secrets people are hiding. I take people at face value most of the time. So if you date women, I assume you are straight. If you date men, I assume you are gay."

"You really never look beyond the surface?" Chase asked. "How can you… Never mind."

"No, say what you were going to say," Wilson said.

Chase looked at Wilson for a long minute. "If you don't look below the surface, there's a lot of life that you could be missing."

"That's why I have House around," Wilson said. "He digs enough for both of us."

Chase shook his head. "But he's not going to tell you what he's hiding, is he? And digging isn't limited to other people. How can you know _yourself_ if you only look at the surface? I think I'm beginning to understand why you've been divorced so many times."

Wilson frowned, not sure he liked where Chase was taking this conversation, but hesitant to let it drop. "Explain."

Chase took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "If you don't know yourself, you can't know what you want in a spouse or partner. If you don't know yourself, you'll lose your identity when you are in a relationship. Your partner's desires will always take priority and your needs get buried until something happens that is the final straw and the relationship self-destructs. You have to know who you are in order to really give yourself to someone without losing yourself."

"Is that what happened with you and Cameron?" Wilson asked. He knew it was a very personal question, but he didn't feel bad considering what Chase had just said about his marriages.

Chase gave a rueful smile and shook his head. "No. We both knew who and what we were. Our problem was that Cameron thought she could live with who I was, but she couldn't."

"So you think I don't know who I am after forty-three years?" Wilson asked.

Chase shrugged and held Mikey out to Wilson before looking at his pager. "I don't know. I do know I have to go. I've just been summoned by his majesty."

After Chase left, Wilson got Mikey settled in his arms and continued feeding him. He sat down in House's lounge chair and put his feet up.

Did he know himself? House had told him not long ago that you can tell a lot about who a person is by the furniture they choose. He hadn't been able to buy anything except something for House. Did that mean he was a complete stranger to his own wants and needs? It might explain why he never could find a place of his own. He'd lived where his wives had wanted to live. He'd moved in with Grace and Amber rather than getting a place of his own. When he wasn't living with a woman, he lived in a hotel or with House. Not one of those living situations required him to put anything of himself into it. Even when he bought the loft, he bought it because he thought it was perfect for House and because he wanted to spite Cuddy, not for himself.

He had no real hobbies or interests outside of work; he usually just went along with what House wanted to do. His wardrobe was boring; he rarely picked out his own clothes and when he did, he didn't buy anything that made him feel good or happy. In fact, other than choosing House as his best friend, Wilson couldn't think of anything he had shown any real passion about in decades. A part of him wanted to blame that on Sam—she had hurt him, so he hid his true self away—but he had been like this before Sam. He had loved her but he hadn't trusted her with who he was. He hadn't given her any more of himself than he had anyone since. Why? What was he hiding? And why would he hide it from himself?

Mikey finished his bottle and Wilson lifted him up to his shoulder to burp him. When the gas came out, so did a bit of regurgitated milk. "Oh gross. Mikey, you just had to do that on my shirt, didn't you? Now I'm going to have my patients wondering why I smell like spoiled milk all day."

"They think that everyday," House told his friend as he entered his office and whacked his friend's leg with his cane. "Out of my chair. And give me my kid."

Wilson smiled. "You're welcome, House." But he did get up and he did hand Mikey over before taking the chair beside the desk again. "How's your patient?"

"He coded twice," House told him. "But I think I've got it figured out this time."

"Oh yeah? What's wrong with him?"

"Lupus," House muttered. "Un-fucking-believable. It's never lupus. And the worst part is Chase called it last week."

"Well, you were a little distracted last week," Wilson defended. "And you weren't actually here, so you were relying on whatever information they relayed to you."

"Right and they probably forgot to tell me some symptom that would have made this all right," House said with quiet skepticism.

Wilson wasn't offended. He knew that House was really upset with himself. "Mikey's just about out. Why don't you put him down? I'll get Thirteen to keep an eye on him while he sleeps and you and I can go for coffee at the new shop down the road."

House grunted, and Wilson took that as agreement, so he went out to the conference room and asked Thirteen to keep an eye on Mikey. She was working on charts, so she was happy to let them go for a few minutes. Less than five minutes later they were on their way out of the hospital.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

"So, why are we at a coffee shop instead of work?" House asked as they took seats at an empty table with their cups of coffee.

Wilson blew at the foam on top of his latte and then looked at house. "You're worried that you'll lose your touch."

House snorted. "How do you figure that?"

"You were being too hard on yourself," Wilson said with a shrug. "You had a reason to believe that it wasn't lupus last week."

House thought back. "His ANA came back negative."

"It's positive in 95% of lupus patients," Wilson said. "And 9 out of 10 lupus patients are women. There were valid reasons to believe that Chase was wrong."

"Yeah," House agreed. "But normally I'm not one for believing that everyone fits into the neat little packages that custom dictates. Normally, I think the remotest possibility is worth exploring."

Wilson sighed. "It was one mistake."

"One mistake that almost cost my patient his life," House said.

"Your patients always almost die," Wilson reminded him. "And then you figure out the answer and save them. You saved this one. So what is the difference this time?"

House shook his head. "I don't know."

"Does this have to do with Mikey?" Wilson asked.

"No!" House denied vehemently. "This has nothing to do with Mikey."

"Are you sure?" Wilson asked. "Because everyone has adjustment issues when they become a parent. Lisa practically had a nervous breakdown. It doesn't mean you can't be a good parent and a good doctor. It just means that you need time to adjust."

"Maybe," House said. "But I don't think I'm having any trouble adjusting to having Mikey in my life. Just the opposite, in fact; we bonded right off. But maybe that's what it is. Maybe because I have something else to focus on, I can't give my full attention to my patients anymore."

"I suppose that's understandable," Wilson said. "And I'm sure that you will adjust to that as well."

"See, this is why I hate change," House complained in a nasally whine. "Now I'm going to have to talk about all this with Nolan tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7

_**PART SEVEN**_

House wandered the halls of the Hospital two days later with Mikey strapped into a carrier on his chest. It was much easier to get around this way and he was grateful for Thirteen's thoughtfulness when she brought the carrier to him on Tuesday, though he would _**never**_ tell her that. Strapping his kid on like a backpack was very cool. In fact, the past two days had gone much better than Monday. Shannon had her baby and they had gone to visit with her for a while that morning. The team also had a new patient, but House was able to come and go as he needed, even if Mikey had to go with him. House knew he wouldn't feel comfortable exposing Mikey to most patients, but he could observe from behind the glass walls. And most of the time, House really didn't want to be anywhere near the patient anyway.

All the same, House would be glad when the nanny started on Thursday. Maybe his work life would go back to normal, even if his home life never did. It was strange to feel so much love and affection for his son while at the same time resenting him for the changes he had brought to his life. Nolan and Wilson both assured him that it was perfectly natural and it would diminish with time, but House worried. He worried that he would become as domineering and overbearing as his own father. He worried that he would always feel resentful towards his son. He worried that he couldn't adapt to a change this big.

To top it all off, Wilson had begun acting strangely. After his meeting with Nolan on Tuesday, House had gone back to the loft and cooked dinner. He was surprised when Cuddy showed up to drop off some paperwork, but he invited her to stay for dinner nonetheless. When Wilson got there, however, he had taken one look at Cuddy and announced he had another headache and had gone to his room. House wondered if his friend had fought with Cuddy. He paid more attention today and noted that any time House brought up Cuddy's name Wilson tensed up and changed the subject. It was making House crazy; he needed to know why Wilson was acting so out of character.

That's what he was doing now. He and Mikey were on their way down to Cuddy's office. He knew it was a risky move. She could take one look at him and try to put him on clinic duty or she could send him off without any new information. But she was the only source he had for information besides Wilson himself, and House wasn't ready to confront his friend on this just yet.

"What did you do to Wilson?" House demanded as he walked into Cuddy's office without knocking. He ignored the young residents who were sitting around the room.

"House, I'm in a meeting," Cuddy said with barely controlled annoyance.

"They can wait," House said dismissively. "You did something to Wilson and I want to know what it was."

Cuddy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Will you excuse me? I'll be back in just a minute." Then she stood up and guided House out of her office and into the vestibule between the office and the clinic. She turned to House and hissed, "I haven't done anything to Wilson! What is this about?"

"He's avoiding you!" House said accusingly. "He saw you last night and ran off to his room. Just like last week. And he keeps changing the subject when your name comes up. So either you are sleeping with him and he feels guilty about it, or you did something to him!"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I expected you to be any saner since you got a kid. House, Wilson and I are fine. We had lunch just yesterday. We haven't slept together, and we aren't fighting. Whatever you think you are seeing is all in your head."

House frowned. "No. I'm not imagining this."

"I'm still with Lucas," Cuddy said in a gentle voice, not sure how House would react to her news. "We… we're getting married. But I haven't told Wilson that, so he isn't lashing out at me to protect your honor again. I swear, House, I haven't done anything to upset Wilson."

"You had lunch with him yesterday?" House asked musingly. "But then he avoided you when he saw me and you together at the loft. And he hasn't been talking about Sam…"

"What is going through that twisted mind of yours?" Cuddy asked.

"Nothing," House said with a sudden mischievous grin. "Just… don't tell Wilson about being engaged for a few days. I need to test out a theory."

Cuddy glared suspiciously at House. "You aren't going to use me to torture him, are you?"

"No," House said. "I promise. I just need to figure something out and I know he won't tell me on his own. If he even understands it himself."

Cuddy shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. Just leave me out of your games and let me go back to work."

House nodded distractedly as he wandered back out to through the clinic and towards the elevator. Once the doors closed on the empty elevator, House looked down at his son and smiled. "Well, Mikey, your daddy never would have guessed that Wilson would be so possessive. But if that's really what's happening here, that is very good news for me and you."

Mikey just cooed and waved his arms at his father happily.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

Wilson was at the loft when House got home that evening. He and Mikey had stopped to pick up dinner from the Thai restaurant Wilson liked. House called the younger doctor to meet them in the parking lot to help carry dinner and Mikey up to the loft. House had found he could carry Mikey and his stuff, but add in an extra bag of food and it was easier to make Wilson help.

Wilson met them and helped House unload the car. Once in the elevator, Wilson said, "Leticia was in to clean today."

"I thought she was working on Thursdays," House said.

"She was," Wilson said. "But her mother is in town this weekend and she wanted to get the job done a day early. I asked her if she would consider cleaning two days and adding a third for laundry."

House raised his eyebrows. "What did she say?"

"She'll start next week," Wilson said. "I thought it would make things easier for both of us. With Mikey taking up more time and making more mess, it will help to have someone else deal with some of that."

House chuckled. "You don't have to convince me. I'm all for making my life easier. The nanny will do some of Mikey's laundry, too." House eyed Wilson closely as he said, "Cuddy told me that her nanny won't do laundry, so we're lucky that Nina will. Cuddy's _**sooo**_ jealous."

Wilson's mouth pinched and his forehead creased. "Yeah. We're lucky. What did you get for dinner?"

House followed Wilson out of the elevator and into the loft with a smile on his face. This was going swimmingly so far. "Thai. Wilson, Cuddy said you and she had lunch yesterday. What did you talk about?"

Wilson set his cargo down and frowned at House. "We just talked about work. Why?"

"Nothing really," House shrugged. "I just thought she might have said something to you if things weren't going well with Lucas."

Wilson got aggravated. "You aren't still pining for her, are you? After what she did? Jesus House! She's not good for you! You need to stay away from her."

"I'm not pining for her," House denied. He wasn't. He had spent the last year pining for Wilson, but he couldn't very well just announce that little detail. "I was just curious. Besides, you were the one who was pushing me towards her last year."

Wilson was grumpy as he set out their dinner and got plates and utensils out. House made up a bottle for Mikey and let his friend brood. The two men worked around each other in the kitchen, and despite the tense conversation, they moved in sync, never getting in each other's way, but helping the other almost unconsciously. House filled the bottle with formula and Wilson handed him the bottled water. Wilson grabbed two bottles of beer and House handed him the bottle opener as he shook Mikey's bottle. Wilson grabbed the plates and utensils and House put the napkins on top for him to set the table.

Once they were both sitting and eating their dinner, House feeding Mikey with one hand, Wilson turned to House and said, "I'm going to break it off with Sam."

House raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise. He had suspected that life wasn't all roses for the couple. After all, she hadn't to the loft since that fateful night a week ago. "Why?"

Wilson snorted. "For all the reasons you've been keeping to yourself the last few weeks but I know you have been thinking. I appreciate your restraint, by the way. She isn't any more right for me now than she was twenty years ago. She doesn't know me and she doesn't want to know me. She just wants the idealized version of me that I show every woman I ever date and when she realizes it isn't real, she'll leave again."

"You need someone who knows the real you," House told him quietly.

"Yeah," Wilson agreed in a subdued voice. "I just don't know if that will ever happen."

House smirked at his friend. "It will happen."

Wilson looked at his friend with a rueful smile. "Since when are you the optimistic one?"

"Since you stole my job being the miserable one," House countered. "Now eat. I want to pass Mikey off before my food is completely cold."

**HWHWHWHWHW**

"What are your plans for the weekend?" House asked Wilson on Friday as they ate their dinner at home. They had eaten lunch together as usual that day and House had gotten Wilson to pay for his sandwich and chips again, but Wilson didn't mind too much since House was now paying for half of the utilities and half of Leticia's salary. He was also cooking more often and bought groceries every once in a while. Wilson didn't ask him for help with the mortgage, knowing that House was still paying the mortgage on his own place.

"I'm going shopping," Wilson admitted. He never went shopping willingly. He usually allowed his wives and girlfriends pick out his clothes the same way he let them furnish his homes. But that was going to stop now. Wilson had set up an appointment with a personal shopper. He was determined to find his own style, but he knew that he didn't know enough to do that on his own.

House snorted. "Really. You?"

Wilson shrugged. "I figure it's about time. I'm 43 years old. I really should be able to pick out my own ties by now."

"Or you could stop wearing ties," House suggested hopefully. "Be a rebel like me. Wear jeans and a t-shirt to work everyday."

Wilson chuckled. "I doubt I could get away with that the way you do. I'm not sure I want to, either. I like being more traditional. I'm just not sure I want to be as boring anymore. We'll see. I've hired a personal shopper to help me figure it all out."

"Is this going to be like the decorator?" House asked. "Because she told you what to buy just like your wives did."

"Nope," Wilson grinned. "First of all, it's a he. And second, he knows that I'm trying to discover my style, so he's going to introduce me to a lot of options and see what I like and what I don't like. He's going to help me, without letting me look like a complete idiot."

"Can me and Mikey come along?" House asked hopefully, giving Wilson his best puppy dog face.

"No!" Wilson denied vehemently. "I don't need or want an audience. This is not a show for your amusement."

"_**Everything**_ is a show for my amusement," House said. "You know you live to keep me entertained."

"Give me Mikey," Wilson said. House handed the baby and his bottle over to Wilson. "You know, I feel sorry for you kid. Your dad is under the delusion that the world revolves around him. You'll show him different, though won't you?"

"He already has," House said with some self-deprecation. "You have a child depending on you completely for more than a week, and you realize pretty quick that the world revolves around him and his needs. I sleep when he lets me, eat when he lets me; hell, I even piss when he lets me."

Wilson laughed. "It's good to see you being humbled."

"Not humbled," House denied. "It's not like I'd give up the center of attention for just anyone. It just means that Mikey is a very rare exception to the rules."

"Rare?" Wilson snorted. "More like the only exception."

House looked up from his plate and met Wilson's eyes. "Not the only exception."

"Who?" Wilson asked his tone serious.

House shrugged. "Does it matter? Give me my kid."

House was finished eating and was geared up to bathe Mikey and get him ready for bed.

Wilson let the subject drop, but continued to wonder as he cleaned up their dishes and put their leftovers away. Who else could take center stage in House's drama? Stacy certainly had for a while, but she had never held the spotlight on her own. She had always been forced to share with House. Cameron had wanted that sort of attention from House, but had never been… more than a supporting player. She wasn't strong enough to stand beside House let alone wrest the spotlight from him. Cuddy? It was possible, but Wilson doubted it. There had been too much hurt and deception there and it was still too fresh. So who could he possibly mean?

Wilson shook his head and went to the living room to wait for House. It was as he watched the evening news that Wilson had a thought strike him.

What if House had meant him?

Wilson considered that. House had never openly put Wilson or his happiness first, but he had often done things in the background for Wilson. There were so many times that House had tried to help him, had put Wilson's wants and needs above his own. He didn't put a spotlight on it, in fact he pretended that it had never happened at all, but it was real and Wilson knew it. House had given that paper on euthanasia to save Wilson from himself. House had bailed Wilson out of jail more than once, without the lectures Wilson would usually give House under the same circumstances. House had been there through two marriages and three divorces. And Wilson may have hated every time House put down or warned him away from some woman or other, but mostly because he was always right in the end. Wilson was the _**only**_ doctor that House never questioned his skill or knowledge, even if he did mock his choice of specialty. When Wilson was content to sit back and let life happen to him, House was there to push him to stand up and take control.

It wasn't really a matter of House letting someone be the center of _**everyone else's**_ attention. House was saying that Mikey, and maybe Wilson, were privileged to be the center of _**House's**_ attention. Wilson rather thought it was a privilege that he wouldn't willingly give up any time soon.

When House came out and held Mikey out for Wilson to kiss goodnight, Wilson rather thought that maybe he was right. Mikey and he were the center of House's life. And in return, House, and now Mikey too, were the center of his.


	8. Chapter 8

_**PART EIGHT**_

The shopping trip was harder than Wilson had ever expected. The good part was that he was able to walk away with a new wardrobe that he had not only chosen, but actually liked. Chris, the personal shopper, had gone through numerous magazines with Wilson first, asking him questions about the different styles, what he liked about each and what he didn't like, what he thought would look good on himself and what he would never even consider wearing. That part alone had taken more than an hour.

Once Chris had an idea what Wilson might like, he took Wilson to one of the upscale department stores and they began searching for clothes that would fit the criteria that they had established. Chris encouraged Wilson to pick items that he liked and not worry about making outfits at first. Once that was done, Chris helped Wilson discover what cuts and colors looked good on him and which did not. Only then did they begin making outfits. Wilson was exhausted by the time they paid for the clothes. Of course, Chris wasn't finished with him. They went to another store and started the process all over again.

The results were worth the trouble. Wilson had to admit as he looked at his reflection in the full length mirror in his bedroom on Sunday evening that he did look good. He was wearing a blue cashmere sweater over a cream silk t-shirt and brown trousers. The tan lambskin blazer he wore over it all was casual and yet very stylish. He had Italian loafers on his feet that cost more than most of his old wardrobe combined. The whole ensemble was elegant without being boring.

"What do you think?" Wilson asked House once in the living room.

House looked amused. "You are going to break her heart. You aren't supposed to look that good when you break up with someone."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I'm just trying to show her that I am not the person she thinks I am."

"She won't recognize you," House agreed mischievously, but then relented. "You look great."

"Thanks," Wilson said, feeling suddenly shy. "I… I guess I should get going. I told Sam I'd meet her in fifteen minutes and it takes that long just to get to the restaurant."

"Well give Mikey a kiss goodnight before you go," House said as he held the baby out for Wilson to embrace. Wilson took Mikey in his arms and gave him a kiss on his little forehead and then gave him back to House.

"I won't be late," Wilson said. He was lingering and he knew it. He just wasn't sure if it was because he really didn't want to have this conversation with Sam or because he really wanted to just stay there with House and Mikey.

"Get out, already," House said as he pushed Wilson towards the door. "Shoo! Mikey and I have plans which don't include you. Now get!"

Wilson had a bemused smile on his face as House closed the loft door on him. He didn't stare at the door for long; instead, he made his way to the elevator and down to the parking lot. There was something about House that always kept him on his toes. And most of the time, Wilson enjoyed every moment. It was rare that he was truly angry with his friend. Sure, he got frustrated with some of House's antics. He had often been concerned with House's Vicodin abuse. But at the end of the day, House amused him more than he pissed him off. If the measure of a good relationship is the ratio of ups versus downs, his relationship with House was definitely a success.

Sam, on the other hand… There had been a lot of ups lately, but there were so many downs from before that he wasn't sure they would ever reach equilibrium, let alone a positive ratio.

It seemed like all of his relationships were like that. Each of his wives had held his interest for a time, but eventually he got tired of pretending, or they saw through the pretense. He pretended that he was perfect. He pretended that he liked the same things they did. He pretended that they were the most important person in his life. He pretended that he loved them. And then reality began to set in as he slowly let the pretenses fall. One of two things would happen then: either he would cheat or they would leave. In some cases it was both. Wilson was tired of pretending and he was tired of repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

The only woman who had ever been an exception to that cycle of destruction was Amber. She had seen him as he was. She knew his faults and still loved him. He thought he might have been able to build a life with her. And then, in that martini bar, House had told Wilson that he was sleeping with _**him**_, that _**Amber**_ was a female version of _**House**_. On some level, it was true. The things he loved about her were the same things that he had always loved about House. If he was completely honest with himself, he had known that even before House had pointed it out.

If House were a woman, Wilson thought that they would be perfect together; he'd even said so once upon a time. With House there would be no pretending. There would be no boredom—who could get bored with House around? There would be no reason to cheat and House would never leave him.

Wilson was rather startled by that thought. How could he ever think that House was the perfect partner for him? He wasn't gay. He had never been attracted to a man before.

And yet, now that the idea had been implanted in his head, it refused to go away.

Wilson thought about his conversation with Chase the other day. _He didn't know himself._ That was the reason behind his new wardrobe. That was why he was giving up on this sham of a relationship with Sam. He wanted to get to know who he was after 43 years. Maybe, just maybe, his feelings for House were wrapped up in his identity. It had to be significant that he had bought the organ for House instead of a piece of furniture that reflected his own tastes. House was as much a part of Wilson's identity as his career or his OCD tendencies. He was the compulsive head of oncology who was friends with crazy Dr. House. On a level below that, there was his reputation as a panty-peeler, his nice-guy persona and his many divorces, but those parts weren't intrinsic. In fact, he wondered how much of that was real and how much was him trying to live up to expectations.

What—and whose—expectations though? His parents had always been supportive of him no matter what. His brother could be a bit of a jerk at times, but Wilson wouldn't live his life to please him. He wanted to pin all his problems on Sam, but the truth was that he was messed up before he ever met her. Maybe it was guilt over Danny's almost twenty year disappearance that was at the heart of his self-imposed need for perfection. House had said it before: Wilson needed to be perfect to make up for the one truly big mistake he made.

So what was his definition of perfect? _Successful._ He was a doctor, and the head of his department at one of the country's best teaching hospital. _Down-to-earth._ He had been hiding behind dull clothing, dull cars, and a dull life for decades. _Upstanding._ Wilson rarely broke the rules, though he loved watching House do so and had fun playing pranks on House. _Heterosexual?_ A picture of a wife, two kids and a house with a white picket fence sprang to mind. But three divorces and numerous unsuccessful relationships said that was an unrealistic expectation. So where did that leave him?

Who was James Wilson?

James wasn't sure, but as he pulled up to the restaurant where Sam was waiting, he knew one thing for certain: he wasn't going to keep pretending to be someone he wasn't.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

"How did it go?" House asked from the sofa when Wilson walked through the door later that evening. He was watching Tivoed episodes of General Hospital. Mikey would have been put to bed long ago. House pressed pause and Wilson sat heavily on the other sofa.

"It went… horribly," Wilson said. "I made the mistake of telling her over the appetizers. I figured it was best to just get it out of the way; otherwise I would be obsessing the entire meal. I thought she'd either take it well and we could move on, or she'd take it badly and storm out. She took it badly and stayed to berate me through two more courses."

House laughed. "You never tell them at the beginning of the date. How can you not know that?"

"How should I know?" Wilson asked. "Women always leave me! I don't break up with them!"

House thought about that. "Yeah. That's true. You usually either make them miserable enough to leave you or you cheat on them and then tell them about it. Why change a perfectly good exit plan? You could have slept with one of the nurses and at least gotten laid from the deal."

Wilson shrugged and stood up. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and grabbed the bottle of bourbon he knew would be there. "Want some?" At House's nod, he got two glasses and carried both back to the sitting area and set them on the coffee table between them. Once drinks had been poured, Wilson leaned back again and looked hard at his best friend. "I'm trying to change the pattern."

"Again, why?" House asked.

"Because it doesn't work, obviously," Wilson said sounding annoyed. "Look, I had a conversation with… Chase recently and he made me realize some things."

"What did the Aussie have to say?" House asked sounding truly curious now.

"We were talking about… something," Wilson said evasively. "Anyway, he said something I didn't expect and he was surprised I was surprised."

"He told you he's bi," House filled in.

Wilson looked uncomfortable but nodded. "Yeah. Anyway, I told him I wouldn't have even considered the possibility because I take things and people at face value. We proceeded to debate the advantages and disadvantages of never looking below the surface. Chase pointed out that I could never really know anyone, including myself, if I never looked beyond the surface."

"So that's what this is about?" House asked. "One conversation with Chase and you are convinced you don't know who you are?"

"One conversation with Chase and a couple weeks trying to buy one lousy piece of furniture," Wilson said ruefully.

House chuckled at that. "You ended up buying something that fit _**my**_ personality."

"Exactly," Wilson said. "Speaking of the organ, when are you going to bring the piano here? There's room in the study for it, you know."

House looked surprised by the offer. "I didn't think you'd want me to bring the piano. It seemed like a lot of fuss for a temporary situation."

Wilson frowned. "Were you planning on moving back soon? I thought… but I guess you'd want more independence, especially with Mikey now."

"I'm not _**planning**_ on moving out until you _**throw**_ me out," House said with exasperation. "But staying with you and moving all my worldly possessions in are two different things. I didn't think you wanted a permanent arrangement."

"Three weeks ago, I probably would have agreed," Wilson said. "But now… Well, I like having you and Mikey here. I like having someone to come home to who doesn't have some misguided ideas of who I am. I like when you get inspired to cook or do something unexpectedly nice that you wouldn't do for anyone else."

"Best money you ever spent, paying for that cooking class, eh?" House said with a smirk.

"By far," Wilson agreed with a sigh. "Move the damn piano here. Rent out the apartment if you don't want to sell it. But let's make this permanent."

"Felix and Oscar raising a kid together," House mused. "Sounds fun."

Wilson snorted. "We are not the odd couple. I'm not nearly as uptight as Felix Unger and you aren't as messy as Oscar Madison."

"Oh you!" House scolded in a girly voice. "Such a flatterer!"

**HWHWHWHWHW**

Another week passed and another weekend rolled around. House was pleased that Wilson was finally away from the leering harlots who called themselves nurses at PPTH. His new look was getting a lot of attention and House was not happy about it. They had just gotten rid of Sam; House had no intention of letting some other delusional female come sniffing around and wreck everything. Though, he had to admit that Wilson looked good these days. The flashier shirts with matching ties were tailored to show off his broad shoulders and trim waist and his new pants showed off the younger man's ass to perfection.

That being said, Wilson was now aware that Cuddy was engaged and he was being much better about tolerating her coming near House. House found it all very amusing and wondered if Wilson even knew what he was doing. He might be working to become self-aware, but he still had a long way to go. Normally, this would be where House started plotting and manipulating to make sure his friend came to the conclusion House preferred, but not this time. For some odd reason, House wanted Wilson to figure this out on his own.

"What are your plans this weekend?" Wilson asked over breakfast on Saturday morning. Mikey was taking his morning nap so House was able to sit back and enjoy a meal with his friend for a change. Even better, Wilson had made breakfast this time.

House swallowed the bite of macadamia nut pancakes with an appreciative groan before attempting to answer his friend. "I have to meet the movers to sort which boxes are going to storage and which are coming here with the piano. After they go to unload at the storage unit, I'm letting the cleaners in to do a final cleaning before the agent rents the place out. Then I'll come back here to supervise the move. Why?"

"Just curious," Wilson said with a shrug. "Want me to keep Mikey while you're closing up the apartment?"

House was surprised. Wilson had held and played with Mikey before, but he had never volunteered to keep him for any length of time. "I'll be gone a few hours," House warned.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I think I know how to handle an infant. All he does is eat, sleep and poop. I can make a bottle, follow a nap schedule and change a diaper as well as the next man."

"If you're sure," House said carelessly. He really didn't care one way or the other, but he knew that this was a big step for Wilson. "I'm going to go get a shower before Mikey wakes up."

House left Mikey in Wilson's care an hour later and went to do his tasks. When he returned just ahead of the movers, Wilson was holding a crying infant looking somewhat frantic.

"He's been crying for an hour," Wilson said as he handed the infant over even before House could get all the way in the door. "He woke up and I fed him, got his diaper changed, and we were good for a little while. Then I decided to put him on his mat, but he started crying and since then nothing I've done would make him stop."

House smirked at his friend. Even as Wilson was telling his tale of woe, Mikey looked up at his father and his cries turned into hiccoughing sobs. Then those petered out into snuffles.

"He seems fine now," House commented as he made his way into the living room. "He probably just hates you."

"Of course he does," Wilson muttered as he slumped on the sofa opposite House.

House gave Wilson a long look and decided to stop teasing him. "You know that it's only natural for him to be attached to me, right? I spend more time with him and I'm more familiar to him. If you spend more time with him, he'll start being just as comfortable with you. It took a while for him to settle for the nanny, too."

Wilson snorted. "That kid's too much like you. He senses weakness."

"It's possible," House shrugged. "You are a very weak willed individual."

"I am not!" Wilson argued.

"Sure you are," House said mildly. "You let me walk all over you. You let Cuddy use you. You even let patients push you around. Remember that guy you told he wasn't going to die? How much money did you offer him?"

Wilson pouted. "That is _**so **_not the point."

"Just give in and give Mikey everything he wants, and he'll love you as much as the rest of the world," House teased.

"I tried that," Wilson grumbled. "What he wanted was you. Besides, that really only ever works with you."

House smiled fondly at his friend. "That is true. That's also why we get along so well." The doorbell rang and House handed Mikey back to Wilson. "Go take him into my bedroom and try putting him down for his nap. I'll deal with the movers."

Wilson looked down at the infant in his arms as House walked away. Mikey, who had been quiet and calm just seconds before, screwed up his face and wailed. "Not again," Wilson groaned. "You're killing me, kid."


	9. Chapter 9

_**PART NINE**_

The tuner had come after the movers left and House could once again play his piano. That was how he spent most of his afternoon. Mikey, content in his swing after his nap—it had taken Wilson almost an hour to get him to sleep—was happy to listen to his father play. Wilson stood in the doorway to the study through three songs just watching the two. He loved listening to House play, but he hadn't thought that Mikey would. Who had ever heard of an infant who liked jazz and Bach in equal measures? Brahms' Lullaby, perhaps, but not the stuff House was playing. It had to be genetic.

Wilson loved this. It was an oddly domestic scene, and he was thrilled that he was a part of it, even if Mikey liked House better right now. That wouldn't always be true. There would come a time when Mikey would look to Wilson's gentler nature as a refuge, he was sure. Just the idea that he would be around to see this child grow up, the idea that he and House would find a way to remain friends for another twenty years or more, the idea that they might always have this domestic tranquility, filled Wilson with warmth he had never known before.

He loved this.

He loved them.

Wilson paused. He loved them? Sure, he loved House; they had been friends forever. And Mikey was a baby and easy to love even when he wouldn't stop crying…. But this was different. This was deeper. He loved Mikey… like he was his own. He wanted to see the boy grow up. He wanted to see his first steps and be there for his first crush. He wanted Mikey to ask him for advice about girls and college and be around when he graduated. He wanted to be Mikey's dad—not in House's place, but by his side.

And House… Well, he'd always loved House. But again, this was more than the simple friendship that he had always acknowledged. The fact that he couldn't imagine his world without House in it—the fact that he couldn't even imagine his apartment without House in it—spoke of something more, something Wilson had never admitted even to himself, despite his recent ruminations.

He was in love with House.

As the panic began to settle in his chest, Wilson didn't notice House stop playing, nor did he respond when the older man called out his name. Eventually, House picked up Mikey and stood right in front of the younger man and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Jimmy!" House shouted.

Wilson jumped. "Wh–What?"

"I asked what you were going to make for dinner?" House said with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah," Wilson said hesitantly. "Yeah I'm fine. But… um… I have to go out. Now. Yeah, that's what I came in here to tell you. I have to go out. Dinner's in the oven. Take it out when the timer goes off."

Wilson grabbed his keys and jacket and was headed out the front door before House could protest or comment further.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

Chase had never moved from the apartment he and Cameron had shared. It had been her place before they got together and theirs while they were married, and since she had been the one to leave, he thought it was pretty fitting that he should keep it. He wasn't overly sentimental or especially attached to the place. The truth of the matter was it was a nice apartment, much nicer than the place he'd had before and worth keeping despite the memories of his ex-wife that lingered. He enjoyed the perks the building offered, like the spacious laundry and workout facilities. He enjoyed the assigned parking spaces so he didn't have to fight for street parking every day. More than anything else, however, he enjoyed the fact that the building was filled with single people; women and gay men were represented in abundance and Chase enjoyed a very active social life as a result. He knew he was getting a reputation as a slut, even among his colleagues, but he really didn't care. He was having the time of his life.

He was taking advantage of his new reputation early Saturday evening when his doorbell rang.

"Ignore it," Carla from 12b told him as she pulled his head back down to her breast.

The doorbell rang again, several times in succession.

"They'll go away," Martin from 13a agreed before going back to sucking Chase's cock.

The doorbell rang again and continued to ring in rapid repetition. Chase groaned and extracted himself from the tangle of bodies on his bed. "Sorry guys. It could be an emergency." He pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before heading out to the living room and opening the door.

He had expected House, or at the very least, one of his colleagues from the diagnostics department. Chase had turned his cell phone off before his guests had arrived, so if something had come up, it would make sense that they would come to fetch him. He hadn't expected Wilson.

"I need your help," Wilson gasped out as he pushed his way into Chase's living room.

Chase eyed his guest ruefully and shut the door. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm in love with House," Wilson told him. He began pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, gesticulating wildly as he spoke. "I'm in love with House! And it's all your fault! Now you have to fix this!"

"My fault?" Chase asked with a chuckle as he took a seat in the armchair. "I'm not sure how you came to that conclusion. Nor am I sure what you believe I can do to '_fix_' it."

"You're the one who told me I should look deeper," Wilson said accusingly. "I was perfectly happy just accepting the surface, but you said I'd be happier if I dug deeper. Well, I dug deeper and now look what's happened!"

"Wilson, sit down," Chase said. "Yelling and panicking isn't going to help anything."

Wilson stopped where he was and stared at Chase for a moment before dropping onto the sofa. "Fine. Now what?"

"Now we figure out why exactly you think it's a bad thing to be in love with House," Chase said.

"Why?" Wilson asked incredulously. "Because it's House! He's my friend! And he's House!"

"You think he's going to ditch you if he finds out?" Chase asked curiously.

Wilson paused to think about that. "No. He wouldn't do that."

"So you think he'll make fun of you?" Chase asked.

"He probably will do that," Wilson said, but it was with a small smile. "But it wouldn't be cruel. It would just be the way he is."

"So you're afraid that he won't return your feelings," Chase concluded.

This time Wilson's frown returned. "You don't think he could love me back, do you?"

"I didn't say that," Chase denied. "I asked if you think that."

"I… I don't know."

"Okay, then let's look deeper," Chase said. "Since that's what got you into trouble, let's see if it can get you out as well."

"Look deeper how?" Wilson wondered.

"Look deeper at House," Chase said. "First of all, have you noticed that House hasn't dated at all since he moved in with you?"

"Well, yeah," Wilson said. "But I just thought that had to do with, you know, his recovery or something."

"Maybe," Chase said. "But maybe there's another reason. How long did House's doctor tell him he should stay with a friend after he was released?"

"A couple months, or until he felt better able to handle the pressures of daily life," Wilson said.

"He's been handling those pressures since he went back to work, though, hasn't he?" Chase asked.

"Well, yes," Wilson said.

"Has he indicated any desire to move back on his own?" Chase asked.

Wilson shook his head. "He just closed up his place and is going to rent it out. He said we could live together like the Odd Couple and raise Mikey together."

"Sounds like he's planning on sticking around for the long haul," Chase said. "Now, one last thing. How many grown men do you know who choose to live with another man when finances aren't an issue?"

Wilson opened his mouth to answer but had to close it again. He didn't know any men who lived together. He hadn't known any since college. Well, that wasn't true. He knew a few gay men who lived together… And Nora had assumed they were gay and House hadn't minded at all… In fact he'd encouraged the belief. He'd said it was because he wanted to seduce her himself, but what if it was just a way to keep Wilson from hooking up with her. After all, it made absolutely no sense that a woman would sleep with a gay man to make him feel better. It had been a completely idiotic plan… unless that wasn't the plan at all. What if House had been as jealous of Nora as Wilson had been of Cuddy lately?

And House had implied that Wilson was the only other person besides Mikey that he would do anything for.

Could House love him too?

"Go home Wilson," Chase said. "Think it over. And then talk to him."

"Chase? Are you coming back?" A woman's voice drifted out from the bedroom.

"Hurry up or we're going to finish without you." That was a man's voice.

Wilson looked at Chase and blushed. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll… just go."

Chase laughed. "It's fine. Just try paying attention and see what you you've been missing. I'll see you on Monday."

"Right." Wilson went to the door and stopped. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Chase said with a teasing smile. "Now get out. I have two very hot partners in the other room waiting for me!"

**HWHWHWHWHW**

As if that conversation had released a pressure valve in Wilson's mind, his thoughts were suddenly filled with sex. He had tried to drink his mind clear, stopping at a bar before finally making his way back home. He didn't want to think about being in love with House, or what that would mean. He didn't want to think about his conversation with Chase, but it was impossible not to find Chase's arrangement with both a man and a woman arousing. But, as he lay in bed that night trying to sleep, images of Chase and his faceless partners soon led to pictures of House, shirtless—as he had been when Wilson had returned home to find him sleepily preparing Mikey's midnight bottle—and trembling beneath Wilson's questing hands. Before long, fantasy after fantasy swirled through his mind.

And those fantasies were making him unbearably hard.

Wilson pulled down his boxers and fisted his cock as more images of House flashed though his mind. House kissing him fiercely; House caressing him tenderly; House pushing him up against the door to his office and pressing their bodies together; House on his knees in the living room sucking him; House forcing Wilson to his knees in this bedroom so that Wilson could suck him; House flattening him into the bed—or bending him over the sofa, or up against the sink, or on top of the kitchen table—and fucking him. _This is so wrong_, he told himself, but it felt so fucking good, so fucking right.

Wilson stroked his thumb over the slit as he continued to pump slowly and deliberately on his cock, imagining it was House's hand on him. His other hand fondled his balls then slipped lower to caress his perineum. His pace built up with that single touch and suddenly he needed more.

Bringing his fingers to his mouth, Wilson sucked them into his wet mouth, allowing the saliva to drench his fingers. He pulled his knees up, planting his feet on the bed and spreading his legs, all the while continuing his torturous strokes to his cock. Wilson teased his puckered hole for the first time and felt his whole body shudder in response. Why had he never tried this before?

Slowly pushing one finger inside, Wilson's hips bucked off the mattress involuntarily. That was so good! His other hand fisted his cock furiously. A second finger and he thought he might just black out from sensory overload, but taking deep breaths he continued his explorations, sliding his finger in deep and slowly back out again, over and over, imagining that it was House's fingers, House's cock. Soon his fingers were fucking him fast and his fist was stroking in rhythm. When he finally touched his prostate, the world exploded and he shot his load, come spurting over his chest and belly as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him, causing whites spots to dance behind his eyelids.

When he finally came down to earth, Wilson got a wet rag to clean himself and his sheets before settling down to sleep. His last thought before unconsciousness claimed him was: _I am so fucked if House ever finds out about this._


	10. Chapter 10

_**PART TEN**_

Wilson had a hard time meeting House's gaze the next morning and through the days that followed. Nevertheless, he did what Chase had advised and began to watch House, trying to see beneath the surface. What he saw made him forget his embarrassment over masturbating to images of House.

For the first time in twenty years of friendship, Wilson realized that House was always watching him. If Wilson was in the room, House had at least one eye on him the entire time. In the middle of a consult, half of House's attention would be on the discussion and half would be on Wilson. And now, with Wilson watching House, it became this weird cycle of stalking. And since neither of them would dare to bring it up for fear of being called on their behavior, it continued for some time.

"This has got to stop," House groaned on Friday evening. Mikey was in bed and the two men were supposed to be watching the wrestling show House had ordered. Instead, they each kept sneaking glances at each other and were ignoring the show. "I never should have wasted the money on ordering Wrestle Mania if all we're going to do is watch each other. We can do that for free."

Wilson sighed and shut the television off. He faced House from the other sofa and said, "Are we talking about this? Because I'm not sure I'm ready."

House snorted. "Will you ever be ready? I've given you a week of staring and thinking. If you aren't ready by now, you never will be. And that's just not acceptable."

"Why do you look at me all the time?" Wilson asked.

Put off by having the focus shifted to him, House shrugged. "Why do you?"

Wilson chuckled. "This is getting us nowhere fast."

"Jimmy…" House took a deep breath and sighed. "I've always watched you. At first it was just because you fascinate me. You, James Wilson, are an enigma in so many ways. I mean, you spent twenty years chasing and catching every woman you set your eyes on, but couldn't manage to keep one of them. Were they all just the wrong women? And you were always so buttoned up and…tidy. You played by the rules. Until something would set off your inner rebel."

"Like throwing a beer bottle into a bar mirror, or a bottle of bourbon through a stained glass window," Wilson agreed with a self-deprecating grin.

House smiled in return. "Exactly. It wasn't until I went to Mayfield that I realized why you fascinated me so much." House wasn't ready to just blurt out his own feelings, so he turned the topic back on his best friend. "That's when I really started watching and analyzing you."

"What did you see?" Wilson wondered.

"I saw how eager you were to have me back from Mayfield," House said. "How eager you were to have me living with you. I saw you panic after you gave me the organ. And then I watched as you ran as fast as you could towards the first woman who came along. And then I was sure that you'd never be able to face what you were feeling."

"But now, things are different," Wilson said.

House nodded. "You broke it off with Sam before it ever really got going. And you started on this introspection kick because of Chase, of all people. I wondered, but never really let myself hope that you'd finally figure it out. But you did."

"What did I figure out?" Wilson asked as he moved to sit beside House on the other sofa. He was closer to his friend than he'd ever before sat by choice.

House took a moment to look at their thighs where they touched before looking back up at Wilson with a smirk. "You were watching me and Mikey last week and you finally realized that you're in love with me. And then you used this past week to figure out how I felt for you."

"And what did I discover?" Wilson asked as he leaned ever closer to House.

"That I'm in love with too," House said huskily. "I have been forever. Maybe since the first night we met."

"Yeah," Wilson agreed. "I did."

And then their lips met. It was a soft exploratory kiss, each gauging the other's response. It was pretty obvious that there were no doubts, no hesitation from either man when that first kiss turned heated. Soon House found himself being pressed back into the sofa as Wilson crawled on top of him. Once their bodies were aligned just right, the younger man was able to thrust just so while his mouth explored the skin of House's neck and collar.

"Jimmy," House panted, shoving at the other man gently. "Jimmy!"

"What?" Wilson asked blearily, his head still in another place.

"Bedroom," House said. "My leg doesn't do romps on the couch."

"Bed…right," Wilson said. He still didn't move. Or rather he didn't move off of House; however, his hips seemed to have a mind of their own.

"Jimmy!" House said again, and this time added a sharp pinch to the other man's butt.

"Ow!" Wilson rubbed the sore spot. "What did you do that for?"

"Get off of me, idiot," House said.

Wilson looked confused and then realized what House was saying. "Right. Sorry. Bedroom. Right."

Wilson stood up and practically ran for his bedroom. House shook his head in bemusement and followed at a more sedate pace. He found Wilson standing just inside the doorway staring at the bed.

"I've never done this before," Wilson said without taking his eyes off the bed, as if it was going to rear up and attack him if he turned his back to it.

"I haven't either," House shrugged. "But I've been reading and it sounds pretty much that same as anal sex with a woman."

Wilson blushed and mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I haven't had anal sex with a woman either," Wilson choked out.

House chuckled. "Well, it's a good thing that I have. Let's go, studly. Get naked so we can get busy."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Why I ever thought that sex with you might be romantic, I'll never know."

"It doesn't have to be romantic," House drawled as he sat on the bed to take off his shoes. "It just has to be good. And by good, I mean that both parties should achieve orgasm."

Wilson felt like he was on a roller coaster. He'd been filled with nerves and apprehension through most of their talk, but when they'd finally gotten to the kissing he'd felt like he was on familiar ground. Then the anxiety was back when the reality of what they were doing hit him. But somehow House knew just what to say to diffuse his angst. This was House, after all. What was the worst that could happen? He could be the worst gay lover in the history of the world and House would tease him mercilessly and still come back to show him how to do it better next time. Because there _would_ be a next time, of that he was sure.

"Stop thinking and get your naked ass in bed," House ordered from his place leaning against the headboard.

Wilson grinned and practically jumped into bed. He gave House a passionate kiss and then pulled away. "So how do we do this?"

House wasn't as nonchalant as he made out and his hand was shaking just a little as he held out the tube of lubricant to his best friend. "I talk you through preparing me, and then we fuck."

"House, I thought…"

House actually blushed. "You'll get a turn next time. But I've… been practicing."

Wilson was humbled. "For me?"

House rolled his eyes. "Just get on with it." He rolled over onto his stomach and placed a pillow under his hips. House smirked at a sudden memory. "I used to hump my pillow like this when I was a boy. My mom thought I drooled a lot because it seemed my pillow was always damp."

Wilson laughed along with his friend even as he helped nudge his legs further apart. He paused to just look. Having House laid out like this for him was surreal and yet the most right thing he could ever remember. He leaned over and kissed House's lips before setting to work. Right. Prepare his partner for penetration. How exactly does one do that?

"Start like you're doing a prostate exam," House said. "Only not so clinical." Wilson lubed up a single finger and teased around House's opening. He was fascinated by the way it sort of twitched and contracted with his caresses. House moaned and Wilson took that as a good sign. Slowly and ever so gently, he began to dip just the tip of his finger in and then back out again. House groaned and Wilson smiled. This really was nothing like a prostate exam.

"Get on with it," House commanded imperiously. He had his head resting on his arms over a pillow. He looked quite relaxed.

Wilson nodded, though House's eyes were closed and he couldn't see him. He slowly sank his finger deeper. The muscles were tight around the digit, but House didn't seem to be in any pain. Carefully, he began to move the finger around, searching for House's prostate. He knew when he found it, even without his years of medical training, because House let loose a low rumbling growl that made Wilson's flesh break out in goose-bumps. Wow. He'd never had a patient react like that to a prostate exam. He stroked over the gland again and House repeated his growl. Wow.

"Use two fingers," House said, but his voice had lost that imperious tone and now sounded slightly breathless. Wilson was determined to make House's voice sound desperate before the night was over.

He eased his finger free and lubed up two fingers this time. It wasn't as easy going in with two fingers, but Wilson took his time and had soon worked them inside. This time, House's growl had a higher pitched whine underneath the low rumble. Wilson smiled again and began to move his fingers in and out, touching House's prostate at irregular intervals and loosening the muscles that guarded his entrance. All the while, Wilson's mind was drifting away to imagine how it was going to feel having those same muscles squeezing at his cock every time he thrust into that wet heat.

"Oh fuck, Jimmy," House whined out, his voice filled with desperation as his hips ground against the pillow and then back at Wilson's fingers. "You gotta fuck me now. Come on."

That was all that Wilson had been waiting for. He eased his fingers free and quickly encased himself in a condom before lowering his body onto House. He lined up his cock and sank slowly through those tight outer muscles and into the hot sheath of House. It was a slow descent, one that made his arms and legs tremble with the effort to be careful, but he could feel House tense and relax around and below him and he followed his non-verbal cues until they were completely joined. He rested there as both he and House breathed through the initial onslaught of sensation and emotion.

House, for his part, was trembling. It felt so good and so right to have Wilson's weight on him. It felt so good and so right to be filled up and surrounded by this man, his best friend and now his lover. And that scared him. Anything this good couldn't last. But Wilson had been there for twenty years and House knew that he would be there for twenty more. It was that thought, along with the gentle kisses up and down his neck and over his shoulders that allowed him to bring his emotions back in check. And then Wilson began to move and House knew that his world would never be the same again. There had been a little pain before but it was quickly replaced with the sheer pleasure of Wilson's cock moving in and out of him. Even before he ever hit his prostate, the sensation of friction and heat and fullness was enough to return his own erection to full hardness. And then Wilson changed the angles of his short thrusts and he nudged House's prostate and House let go with a high pitched whimper noise he was sure could not have come from him. But when Wilson made a point of hitting that spot over and over again, there could be no doubt that he was the one making such an unbecoming noise. Then again, did he really care when it felt like his body was one huge sexual nerve ending?

Wilson shifted onto his knees and pulled House's hips up so that he was on his knees as well, though his head stayed on his pillow. With a good grip on House's hips, Wilson began to really lose control. Before he lost all sense of himself, however, he reached below House and began to stroke his cock in a tight fist, moving in time with his own thrusts. The dual stimulation soon had House shouting out his release. A few more thrusts and Wilson was right there with him.

**HWHWHWHWHW**

**A/N:** Okay, so there's just one last chapter... It has the conclusion of their night together and then a short epilogue. Hope you all have enjoyed the story so far and will stick around for the final installment! Jules


	11. Chapter 11

_**PART ELEVEN**_

Sated and sweaty, Wilson and House slowly came back to earth. Wilson carefully pulled out of House and disposed of the condom before rejoining House in bed. House had used the pillow case he had come on to wipe any residual fluids away and then tossed the pillow and case to the floor. Wilson smiled wryly. At least there was no wet spot.

They got settled, which took longer than they would have thought as they worked around House's leg and personal preferences until they ended up with House on his back, his arm around Wilson, who was on his side, one leg tangled up with House's and one arm draped over the other man's chest.

"So, where do we go from here?" House wondered.

Wilson smiled. "We give Mikey his own room to start with."

House huffed a laugh. "A boy needs his privacy. Though I don't think we'll have to worry about that for a while yet."

"I hope not," Wilson said. He was quiet for a time. "I want permanent. I want you to be mine, and I want Mikey to be mine too."

"Meaning?" House asked, though he suspected he knew.

"Wanna be the fourth Mrs. Wilson?" Wilson asked jokingly, but there was anxiety and fear of rejection evident in his voice and the shaking hand that played with the hair around House's nipple.

House grabbed Wilson's hand and pulled it to his lips. Then he left their joined hands rest on his chest together. "How about you become the first Mrs. House? We might have better luck with that. Besides, Mikey's got my name already."

Wilson's breath hitched and House could tell he was trying to hold back tears. "So you'd let me be…"

"You already are," House said. "Like I told you last week, we'll raise him together." He paused and lifted Wilson's face to look him in the eye. "I love you and I want you in my life for the rest of my life. And I want you to be Mikey's other dad. Is that clear enough for you?"

Wilson nodded and swallowed back a sob. Instead, he laughed with the joy that was spilling out of his heart. "Yeah. That's pretty clear."

House's heart was filled with that same joy. Wilson was his and would be for the rest of their lives. Sure, he would grumble and complain the whole time as Wilson planned their wedding, or commitment ceremony or whatever you call it when to guys tie the knot, but he'd still be there on the day and say the right words and kiss his brand new husband in front of their friends. Yeah, he'd make jokes and sarcastic remarks about Mikey loving him more than Wilson, but he'd still sign the papers so that Wilson could legally be his father too and make sure they made all the big decisions about raising him together. And best of all, Wilson knew him and loved him and would see through his snarky façade and would know that there were just some things House couldn't say.

House was in love with his best friend, and Wilson was finally in love with him too…

"Took you long enough," House said sleepily, as though Wilson could read his thoughts.

"Sorry, I'll try to be faster on the uptake in the future," Wilson agreed. Maybe he _could_ read his mind.

Just then, Mikey cried. House glanced at the clock. It was time for his midnight feeding. "Well, you want to be Daddy? Here's your chance to bond with your son. Diaper and a bottle and he'll be out again before you know it. Papa's gonna sleep for a change."

Wilson snorted, but he was quick to get out of bed and pull on a robe. He wanted this more than he could express to House. "Don't think I'm going to do this every night. You still have to do your share."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," House muttered as he pulled the pillow over his head to hide his smile. He didn't protest, however, when Wilson pulled that pillow away and gave him a warm and tender kiss.

"Thank you," Wilson said. "I'll wake you up when I'm done. Then you can show me what's so great about bottoming."

House laughed and kissed Wilson once more before Mikey's cries drove them apart. They would have the rest of the night—no, the rest of their lives—to make love. Right now, Mikey needed attention.

House watched his lover leave and wondered how he had ever gotten so lucky.

_**EPILOGUE**_

"House! You are not buying our son a motorcycle for graduation!"

"Jimmy, come on. He's going to college. A really hot bike will get him laid." Even at 67, House could be as irresponsible as ever.

"So will a safe sedan." Wilson argued. He set aside the paper he'd been reading and glared at his husband.

"But not by the same women. It takes a very special person to appreciate all that horsepower between her legs. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?" House slid closer to his husband on the sofa and let his breath ghost over Wilson's ear. "Remember when we would ride my bike together, bodies pressed tight, all that horsepower roaring between our legs…we always had some of the best sex after rides."

Wilson was feeling very warm suddenly and began to loosen the collar of his shirt. "That's not the point…"

"Sure it is," House said. "You want our son to miss out on an experience like that?" House's lips met Wilson's ear and he licked and nibbled his way around the shell until he reached the lobe, which he sucked between his lips.

"I hate you." Wilson muttered. House knew just how to turn him into a puddle of mush. That hadn't changed in the 18 years they had been together. And House still took advantage of that fact on a regular basis.

House chuckled. "But you'll give in anyway."

Despite his advancing years, Wilson straddled House's lap and looked him in the eyes. "You will teach him bike safety. And I don't mean how to ride with one hand at eighty miles an hour."

"I taught him about safe sex, I think I can handle teaching him to wear an _actual_ helmet."

"Is that what you told him when you gave him the talk? You used bike metaphors? House, he was 12! No wonder he came to me all confused," Wilson said. "He asked what a manifold was and where it was on a girl's anatomy!"

House looked sheepish, "Well, he did know how to put a condom onto a banana after our talk."

Wilson chuckled and kissed House on his lips. "No matter how long we're together, I will never get used to you."

"Good thing," House said. "It's probably why our marriage has lasted longer than all your other relationships combined."

"Probably," Wilson conceded and dove in for another kiss. It took a little longer these days to stoke the fires, but it was always worth the extra effort.

"Are you done arguing?" Mikey asked from the hall, knowing better than to just walk into a room after one of his fathers' arguments—they always ended up making out or worse. "Because I'd like to go shop for whatever vehicle you've decided on before I'm your age."

"We're done arguing," Wilson said.

"He gets this awful consideration from you," House accused. "I'd never check before entering a public room. Or a private one for that matter."

"And he gets his self-centered tendencies from you," Wilson said even as he climbed from his husband's lap and held out a hand to help him up. "Let's go old man. We have a bike to buy."

"Yes!" Mikey shouted as he realized House had won. And then he did a little victory dance.

"That's _**your**_ son," both men said as they watched his antics. Then they smiled.

"That's our son," House said quietly and kissed Wilson softly.

"Jeez! I thought you two were finished with all the mushy stuff!"

"He's definitely our son."

_**THE END**_

**A/N:** Well, that's the end. I hope you enjoyed this story. It's actually one of my favorite House fics and I was proud to share it with you. Thanks for the support and the reviews. Jules


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